


Vibrant Sunsets

by Elder_Higgins



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Africa is nothing like The Lion King, Falling In Love, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Uganda (Book of Mormon Musical), Slow Burn, Spooky Mormon Hell Dream, i will put trigger warnings before any of those chapters, mentions of sexual assualt, super slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2019-10-26 15:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elder_Higgins/pseuds/Elder_Higgins
Summary: Kevin had never been a fan of sunsets, not until Uganda. He had always seen them as a cliché. A trope from a poorly written romance novel. Little did he know, he was in one.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever multichip fic! I plan on updating every one to two weeks if my schedule will allow, so please be patient. I don't know exactly how long this is going to end up being, but it is going to be a slow burn so I want to say at least twelve chapters. Anyway, please enjoy!  
> (Sorry this prologue is so short)

Turbulence rocked the plane, causing a freckled hand to grab at Kevin’s tan and calloused hand. He squeezed it in soft reassurance, they would make it, the plane would not crash into the Hudson Bay. The sun was just beginning to rise over the Atlantic Ocean, coloring the sky in colorful hues of pinks and reds. Kevin missed Uganda’s sunrises. 

The plane stopped shaking. Connor did not let go of Kevin’s hand, not that he minded. They had maybe thirty minutes left on this plane. Thirty minutes to share small little displays of affection before they landed, after that they had an hour in the airport until Kevin had to hop on his connecting flight back to Salt Lake City. 

That meant Kevin Price only had 5,400 minutes to memorize the way Connor’s eyes crinkled when he smiled or how he bit down on his pink, chapped lips to hold back a laugh. Only 324,000 seconds to press small kisses on his sunburnt knuckles. Only an hour and thirty minutes to love this boy. 

“You’re staring, again,” Connor chuckled, meeting Kevin’s cautious gaze with a grin. A warmth spread through Kevin, as it always did when Connor looked at him; he only had an hour and twenty-nine minutes left. He began to stutter an apology, but the other cut him off, “I don’t mind. I like when you look at me.” 

Kevin leaned over, pressing a small kiss against Connors cheek before quickly pulling back. “I like to look at you,” he gave a breathy laugh and winked. The tips of Connor’s ears went pink. If they were still in Uganda, Kevin would already be pressing Connor against the back of the mission hut and leaving hickeys along the pasty boy’s neck, but they weren’t in Uganda anymore. 

He tore his mind away from the thought and looked out the window to distract himself. The pollution in the air choked the vibrancy from the colors. Everything was dull and greying, choking the life out of it. Connor let go of his hand. One hour and twenty-seven minutes left. 

Kevin Price blinked and when he opened his eyes he was back in Uganda. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Kevin Price had been disowned. Well, he assumed he had been, it was hard to hear exactly what his parents were saying as they both yelled at him over the phone. He could have sworn the word “disowned” was in the spew of hate, right between “disappointment” and “pathetic.” Kevin had never been called those things before, especially by his parents. His ten minutes on the landline ended for that month, he muttered a small “love you” and was answered by a dial tone. Thirty days later he tried calling again, no one answered. 

It was more than likely everyone in the world had heard about District 9’s failure of a mission, at least that is what the dramatic flair in Kevin’s mind kept telling him. The disaster with the Mission President had caused all funding to be pulled for the group. 

Thank God, if he still existed, for Elder McKinley’s quick thinking. Letters were sent out to practically every nonprofit organization the group could think of as well as the Federal Government of the United States. After about thirty days of rationing what food the group had, District 9 received a response letter. They would be given funding to build a school, a community garden, and new huts for the village. 

The entire project would last them two years. They would finish their mission after all, though this time it would have a true purpose. 


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always this headcannon that Kevin would be insanely good at math. I dunno, what do you guys think?
> 
> Also TW for brief allusions to sexual assault, you already know what it is if you've seen the musical. Be careful reading, I have it littered all throughout the chapter since it is something poor Kev is actively struggling to cope with

Kevin’s first encounter with Elder McKinley had been, in a nutshell, had been nothing worth remembering. There was a blur of red hair, some freckled fingers eagerly shaking his hand, and a sparkly pink jazz routine. Easy to forget. Not at all something he would replay over and over again, in the living room of the mission hut, to distract himself from any unease his most recent hell dream had conjured. 

That was where Kevin Price could be found most nights; sitting on the couch in and absent mindedly chewing on his fingernails, all hoping the District leader would stumble out of his room for a drink of water. 

Tonight, he was lucky. At four in the morning, Kevin had yet to fall back asleep since his hell dream woke him up just after ten o’clock, Connor McKinley stumbled out of his room and into the living room with a glass of water. Kevin let out a small cough, altering the other of his presence. Water was all over the floor. 

“Holy shit!” A rather unbecoming obscenity slipped from the District Leader’s lips, “Elder Price! What are you doing up?” Connor knelt down on the dirty wooden boards they considered ‘hardwood’ in Africa and blindly groped for his, now empty, glass. 

Kevin reached down and grabbed it the same time Connor found it. Fingertips brushed. Heat rushed to the redhead’s cheeks. The other snatched his hand away. Apparently, he still couldn’t handle contact, not after. . . The thoughts dislodged themselves from his mind with a quick shake of the head and a well-practiced smirk. 

“I didn’t know you knew such words,” Kevin chuckled, referring to the curse that had left Connor’s mouth a few minutes prior. The other boy flushed once more. There was a stammer of what sounded to be an apology, but Kevin wasn’t entirely certain. He waved it off, whatever it was. “I’m just joking around.” 

It was Connor’s turn to smirk, well, he made an attempt at smirking. Connor was by no means a smirking kind of guy; he was a full sunshine smile, that lit up the entire room and caused Kevin’s chest to tighten. In that futile to attempt to smirk, Kevin’s breath was caught on the glisten of white teeth from Connor McKinley’s grin. “I didn’t know you knew what a joke was,” the redhead spoke with newfound ease. Jesting Kevin Price would do that to a person. 

In a desperate attempt to salvage his reputation as resident asshole, Kevin simply snorted and shrugged. “I do know what jokes are, it isn’t my fault all of you don’t know how to make any good ones.” This statement caused a dramatic gasp to leave Connor’s lips, “I can’t believe you have the audacity to tell me that my jokes aren’t funny. They are extremely hilarious, one might even say they were _punny._ ” 

Kevin groaned, rolling his eyes, and failed to suppress a smile all at once. Here they sat – technically one sat, the other was kneeling in a puddle of dirty water – joking around they were old friends, and this wasn’t their third time conversing in the two months they had been in Uganda. They fell into a comfortable silence. Connor managed to sop up some of the water with an old t-shirt they now used as a rag. 

“You never did answer my question earlier,” Connor said as he took a spot next to Kevin on the couch. Not too close, he had seen the way Kevin would stiffen at the slightest brush against his person. 

The boy beside him simply shrugged and let out a small sigh, “Too hot, I guess?” Even Kevin didn’t sound convinced by that white lie. Connor nodded, figuring that pushing him to tell the truth would place them back in the position they had been in last week – with Kevin screaming for everyone to leave him alone before storming out of the hut. 

Kevin shook his head softly, eyes trailing down the length of Connor’s profile; he tried again, “I had a hell dream.” There, he said it. No big deal. Except for the fact that it was a huge deal. If Connor pried, and he knew that he would, then Kevin would be thrown right back into that moment with General Butt-Fucking Naked and he would have to explain to this perfect, understanding person sitting next to him that he was broken, unworthy of affection, and terrified. 

_Breathe, Kevin. In and out. Breathe. In and out. How many numbers of pi do you know? 3.1415926535_ . . . Kevin counted out 75 numbers in his head before ache in his chest dissolved. He could inhale normally once more, though the nervous twitch in his eye and the shaking of his hands still had yet to disappear. 

But Connor didn’t pry. In fact, he said something that caught Kevin completely off guard, “I have them every night. I barely get four hours of sleep most of the time.” Which made no sense at all. Connor McKinley having hell dreams every night was not something that he would have expected, but the fact that he rarely slept was the true kicker. Sure, there were puffy bags under his eyes some mornings, but all Elders had those – the cots weren’t exactly the hotel beds they had been hoping for – other than that, Connor was chipper and well put together each and every morning. 

Immediately Kevin’s mind went a thousand different ways. Would Connor be offended if he asked what they were about or why he had them so often? Would he be pressured to share his own hell dreams in return? What if he did ask and Connor thought he was trying to exploit him? If he didn’t ask would Connor go back to bed? What was he supposed to do when the most attractive person he had ever met was sitting right next to him, admitting that he was as human as the rest of the Elders, and not, in fact, a god as Kevin had originally assumed? How could Kevin even think about another man like that? He wasn’t gay. No, Kevin Price was a lot of things but gay wasn’t one of them. Right? 

“Elder Price?” Connor snapped him from the icy clutches of anxiety. “Elder Price, do you need to go back to sleep? I’m sorry for keeping you up. I didn’t realize-” 

“No!” Kevin interrupted, a bit too enthusiastically, “No, I’m ok. I don’t think that I’ll be able to fall back asleep anyway.” He spread a tired smile across his features in a fruitless attempt to prove his point. When he saw that Connor wasn’t entirely convinced he sprung towards a new tactic. “You can call me Kevin, you know? All this Elder nonsense – sorry,” Kevin apologized at his choice of words, but Connor didn’t seem to mind. 

“No, you’re right. We aren’t part of The Church anymore and sticking to their rules is kind of like lying to ourselves. Since that is the case, you can call me Connor.” Connor laughed, an intoxicating sound with his eyes crinkling around the edges as his face lit up in genuine happiness. Kevin’s chest tightened, and his breath left his body in the best way. That laugh, he decided, was the best sound he had ever heard. 

“I guess you have a point, after all, lying is the worst thing a Mormon could do.” Kevin joked and had Connor in stitches. The ginger clutched at his side, desperately attempting not to wake the rest of the hut. “Oh, Kevin.” Connor wiped tears of laughter from his face. “I think I enjoy your company much more when you don’t have a stick up your butt.” 

The comment sucked the air right from his lungs; the wall he had carefully built around himself had growing fissures. _1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34. . ._ Kevin took a deep breath, tapping his finger against his thigh with the beat of the sequence. “Did you know that there is approximately 105 minutes until the sun rises?” He did what Kevin does best and changed the subject. 

Worry etched itself into Connor’s features. “Kevin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He apologized, misinterpreting the situation, though Kevin couldn’t blame him. None of the Elders knew. He kept that secret bottled inside. Once Connor saw that Kevin wasn’t going to continue their previous conversations he plastered on that classic Mormon smile. Kevin missed the other smile, the one that lit up his entire face; this smile dulled Connor’s features until he was a hollow shell. 

“105 minutes you say? That’s a weird way to phrase an hour and a half don’t you think, Kevin?” Connor leaned back, trying to them back into a more casual conversation. Hopefully they would have more nights like these, ones where he would truly be able to find out why Kevin was locked away from the rest of the word. 

The other boy snorted, proving he wasn’t entirely devoid of emotion at the moment. “I think that was a perfectly normal way to phrase the time. Would you rather me tell you that there is now only 6,180 seconds until the sunrises, thanks to you wasting two minutes insulting my ability to tell time.” Kevin quipped, the nervous twitch in his eyes halted. 

Connor let out a low whistle, “Damn, Kevin.” There he went again, saying his name anytime he could find a reason. Kevin would have to ask him about that some other time, right now, he wanted to keep talking about numbers. “You did that in your head?” He asked, to which Kevin nodded. 

“Math is easy. It has a structure and rules to follow. Everything makes sense. It’s concrete.” Kevin fidgeted, biting down on his lip as he spoke. He had once felt the same way about The Church, and while that support system had come crashing to the ground, mathematics would always be there to calm him down. Next to him, Connor nodded, clearly impressed. 

“I never liked math, or sunrises, to be quite honest with you.” Connor chuckled at Kevin’s dramatic gasp. “I can’t tell which one you’re more upset about.” He held the brown eyed boys gaze for a moment, noting the dark bags. Connor would have to keep an eye on him, there was no way he was letting Kevin fall ill on his watch. 

“How can you not like sunrises? Isn’t that like the optimist’s whole aesthetic?” Kevin blurted out the first thought that came to mind. Around Connor, it seemed, his impulse control would malfunction. He couldn’t help himself but wondering aloud. 

Thank God – er, thank goodness, Connor laughed and didn’t go off on an angry tangent for Kevin’s abrupt assumption as Kevin had feared. “Oh god no. The whole cliché ‘every day is a new beginning’ makes me want to puke.” Here he inserted a dramatized gagging noise, that only emphasized Kevin’s theory of Connor being heavily involved in theater. Another note added to his file on ‘Things to ask Connor McKinley.’ 

“Then do you like sunsets?” Kevin asked, crinkling his nose at the thought, “Because if you do, we can’t be friends. Sunsets are the worst. Everything gets dark and gloomy. Mosquitos and lions are ready to eat you to death.” These entirely valid points, to Kevin at least, earned a soft guffaw from Connor, who countered the argument with a simple statement: “A setting sun means that it will have to rise again, which gives sun rises all the more meaning; it has survived the darkness and come out the other end brighter and more beautiful than ever.” 

Maybe, just maybe, Kevin would give sunsets a chance. Not anytime soon, however; he did not want Connor to know that his words of wisdom had impacted Kevin in some way, shape, or form. He had a reputation to hold. 

Instead, he stood up and stretched. “Let’s go outside for a little while. We can watch the much more glorious sunrise.” Kevin winked, trying to rut himself back into the confident groove he had when he and Arnold first arrived in Uganda. Flirting had been easier then, more carefree. A few casual touches here and there, all without the looming anxiety of what he had been through. 

Connor shook his head but stood regardless. “Alright, Kevin, but only because I believe in understanding both sides of an argument before making a final ruling.” Kevin could respect that stance, it was quite analytical after all. 

They made their way outside, being as quiet as humanly possible. There was still 93 minutes until the sun came up. That entire time was spent discussing plans for the new school. None of the Elders had ever built a school from the ground up, surprisingly. They had no clue how to create a blueprint or even read one. There was no one coming to help. The boys were entirely on their own. 

“I was thinking that you could help out with the math and the angles,” Connor mused, sending a hopeful glance at Kevin. “If you would want to, that is. Though it would really help out if you did. The whole planning period could get done in weeks, because Elder Church – I mean, James – is currently our architect and at the rate he’s moving we won’t get the plans done until our mission is over!” 

There was a long pause, accompanied by an exaggerated ponder from Kevin. The mere look of concentration on his face sent Connor into another laughing fit. “You look constipated,” he wheezed, clutching at his sides. Kevin had never found himself funny, especially not humorous enough to have someone in stitches twice in one night. Regardless, Connor was beside himself with laughter and Kevin was not about to complain. “Constipated with thought,” Kevin countered, breaking down in his own fit of giggles. 

It took a few minutes for the two to calm down. Connor would constantly flick his steady gaze away from Kevin because anytime they made eye contact the laughter would begin again. Each of them had tears running down their cheeks, streaking away grime and dirt over a joke that was equivalent to a joke a fourth grader would make. Perhaps that was all they needed, an immature joke to break through the weeks of hopelessness. 

“I’ll be your architect,” Kevin sighed, leaning back against his elbows. Connor cocked his head at his voice, looking over with an arched brow. “I swear to Heavenly Father, Kevin Price, if you are lying to me I will have your head.” He narrowed his eyes at Kevin in an attempt to be menacing all while looking anything but. His reaction earned a sigh and an insistent, “I am being 100% serious, I promise.” 

As soon as the words left Kevin’s lips he was enveloped into a tight hug and an absurd amount of thank yous. The hug wasn’t unpleasant, Connor was warm and so unbelievably soft. All Kevin wanted to do was melt into his arms, but his mind could only think of The General. His body tensed, as much as his mind screamed at him that this was only Connor – sunshine in human form – that he was safe now, tears still sprung to his eyes. A strangled sob escaped him, “Please let go.” 

Immediately Connor released him, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. “I am so sorry, Kevin. I forgot about the touching. I am so sorry.” He mumbled over and over again. Kevin simply shook his head, panted in a pathetic attempt to supply his lungs with oxygen. “How can I help?” Connor asked softly, scooting a bit closer but being careful to avoid contact. The movement made Kevin flinch. 

“Too close?” He was ready to move away, but Kevin shook his head. He needed Connor by him. He was tired of dealing with these panic attacks on his own; Kevin needed someone in his corner, someone that was not Arnold – the kid was sweet, but utterly useless in situations like these. 

“Can I touch you?” Connor spoke with genuine sincerity, voice close to cracking. He was a naturally touchy individual, always needing to have his hand on another person. Poptarts was his rock, always letting him lean on him or hold his hand when the crave for human contact was eating him alive. This was not the first time the idea of a personal space bubble had slipped Connor’s mind, but it was the first time someone had a panic attack over it and it shattered his heart. 

Upon hearing the question Kevin shook his head, he was not ready for that. The hug had caught him off guard as it was, and he was scared that any other contact would send him into that numb shell of a man. Kevin would rather suffer through this mild panic attack than go back to not feeling anything at all. He met Connor’s panicked gaze, the pale boys face speckled with dark spots in his vision. Kevin let out another wet sob, throat swollen, and chest aching. 

The boy next to him was a shivering mess. If he wasn’t sitting outside in 89-degree weather, he would have believed him to have hypothermia. Connor watched the fear root itself deep in Kevin’s face, anxiety etched across every crease in his face. “I have this breathing technique back from when I would dance, it’s called Sama Vritti,” Connor explained, desperately wracking his brain for anything that could help. “You breathe in for four beats and then out for four.” 

Numbers. Finally, something Kevin could latch onto. He nodded, face contorting as his lungs screamed for air. “Breathe in, one. . . two. . . three. . . four. . . and out, two. . . three. . . four. . .” Connor spoke tenderly, keeping a steady beat for Kevin to follow. He tapped it out on the ground, eventually Kevin did the same. 

It took a few tries, his mind was working against him, but eventually Kevin drew in a ragged breath. Then another, for the four beats he tapped out against his thigh. Then another and another and another. Eventually, he was back to breathe semi-normally. “Thanks,” he croaked, wiping at his face. “Sorry, I was- I don’t like to be touched.” 

Connor nodded in understanding, gently reminding him, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I forgot about it.” He didn’t pry as to why. It was something unpleasant enough for Kevin to freak out over an act as simple as a hug, so talking about it was out of the picture for now. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Your feelings are valid.” Connor offered a gentle smile, gaze searching for any signs of anxiety left swirling about in his mind. 

“I’m trying to get better about it. Sometimes I can let Arnold touch me, but I have to know he’s doing it and you caught me off guard,” Kevin rambled, looking at the ground with a sheepish blush spreading across his usually pale skin. “Maybe one of these days we can try again? If that’s ok with you.” His tired eyes weighed down with heavy bags flicked over to Connor. 

Kevin’s mind was in pieces. Part of him wanted to sleep, part of him was too scared to sleep; part of him wanted to talk about _it_ ; part of him was too scared to talk about _it_ ; part of him wanted to touch Connor and hold him close; part of him was too scared to do so; and part of him wanted to scream and curse at the world, but his throat was sore. 

The few seconds silence dragged on for an eternity. What if it was too soon to ask that of him? After all, he had just freaked the poor guy out with the panic attack, his head was probably still spinning. Connor simply nodded, taking those brief moments to mull over whether or not Kevin would be ready for that. He didn’t want to pressure him into anything; he would be happy as long as Kevin was and if waiting a few weeks to hug him made him happy, then so be it. “We can go at your pace,” Connor said with a grin. 

It was infectious, Connor’s smile, and soon Kevin had a grin of his own despite the tears streaks down his cheeks. Far off in the distance, the sun was beginning to rise. Light pooled gradually in the sky and drowned the stars, Planet Orlando. Usually Kevin would frown at the thought, watch as his late-night hopes were washed away by a dull reality, but Connor was here, offering to help him, and suddenly the sunshine had more meaning. 

“I still think sunrises are better,” Kevin smirked and earned a feigned scoff in response. The red head rolled his eyes, leaning back on the heels of his palms, simply remarking, “That’s because you’ve never experienced a sunset with me by your side.” He caught Kevin’s eye and winked, biting back a giggle as a fresh blush brought color to the lanky boy’s cheeks. 

“Not yet,” Kevin sighed, watching the world erupt in vibrant hues of magenta, powder blue, and purple. The ‘but soon’ went unsaid between them, but they knew it was there. 

For once in his life, Kevin Price was eager for night to fall. 

The two sat outside, watching Uganda slowly wake up. Inside there was yells, the sounds of boys shoving their way into the bathroom, eager to be the first in the shower, and bowls being removed from the pantry for breakfast. “We should go help them,” Kevin said, glancing backwards at the screen door, but Connor shook his head. 

“This is the only downtime I’m going to be getting today, I would much rather spend it out here with you than in there, scolding Elder Michaels for overcooking porridge three times in one week.” Kevin laughed, smiling wide at the thought of Connor wanting to spend time with him. He turned his gaze back to the sky, brown eyes watching clouds suspended lazily as they too woke up. “I would much rather have overcooked porridge at a lively table than crispy bacon at a tense table back home.” The words had meant to come out as a joke but landed flat. He sounded pitiful. 

Connor took it in stride, chuckling in agreement. “Preach,” He mumbled, a sad smile forming on his lips as he continued speaking, “Though, I don’t really have a home to go back to anymore.” They had more in common than Kevin had previously thought. 

“I suppose I don’t either, though I would like to think my brother, Jack, can talk enough sense into my parents to help them understand. He always had a way with words,” Kevin giggled, “could sell ice to an Eskimo. I’m not much for words. Too abstract.” 

Before Connor could reply, Arnold came rushing out onto the porch with a frenzied look in his eyes. “Yes, Elder Cunningham?” Connor asked, the tight smile reserved for being district leader was stretched across his features. 

“Elder Michaels is adding too much milk into the porridge and Elder Poptarts is hogging the shower,” He whined, despite being the one who had put them all in this situation to begin with, but Connor wasn’t mad. No, he laughed and headed inside. Kevin could hear him yelling playfully with the others, and he waited a few minutes, admiring the sun that had pushed up through the darkness before joining the rest of them inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments/kudos are appreciated! Constructive criticism helps me improve as a writer and is always welcome. Any ideas you would like to see later in the fic are welcome as well :)


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took me so long to get out to y'all, I have been super busy with senior year!

As promised, Kevin drew the plans. That day he was able to avoid hours in the beating sun cultivating gardens the Elders had created; instead, he was hunched over the dining table with a calculator and a ruler. His head was pounding, his wrist was cramped, and the whole side of his left hand had pencil lead smeared all over. Kevin could not remember math being this hard. Then again, he was always trying to figure out how many bottles of soap he could fit into a shopping cart not problems that were applicable to everyday scenarios, or Ugandan scenarios. 

Despite the frustration and the lack of sleep, Kevin was rather proud of himself. He had managed to establish a decent entrance in under an hour. The nonprofit sponsoring them had yet to send the materials, so there would most likely need to be a few alterations, but other than that the project was officially underway. 

Kevin was finally contributing. These building plans were the first thing he had helped the Elders with since. . . the incident. The mere thought of it caused Kevin to flinch. The pencil made a stray mark with the movement. _2, 4, 16, 256, 65,536. . ._ He erased the mistake and kept working. No big deal. It was a small mark, nothing noticeable. Somehow that hurt worse. 

A few hours later, Arnold tumbled into the hut for lunch. He was drenched in sweat, face beat red as he gasped for air. “Kevin, they’re actually making me help this time.” The curly haired boy whined loudly, tossing himself on the floor. He flapped his shirt wildly in attempt to get cool air flowing. “It is torture, Kev. You have to talk to them, tell them you need my help in here.” 

Kevin snorted softly, marking a doorway for a science classroom, before responding, “Just wait until we actually start building the school, Arnold. You’re really going to regret making all those things up.” To anyone else, those words would have come off snarky, but Arnold had gotten to better understand Kevin’s sarcastic sense of humor these past weeks and simply laughed. 

“Well that won’t be as bad because Nebulous will be helping out too.” Kevin winced at the incorrect pronunciation of her name but had to commend Arnold on his creativity. He rarely repeated whatever crazy name he came up with and Nabulungi never corrected him. Kevin had a feeling she liked that about Arnold, his vivid imagination. “Plus, Elder McKinley says that we would have more people coming down to help us, you know, from the mother ship.” He finished rather objectively. 

He doubted anyone would be coming to help, one look at the state of the village had almost sent him running. To think that he had wanted to be the next Prophet and couldn’t even face Uganda. “Are the rest of them coming for lunch or is it just us to for now?” Kevin sighed, setting aside his pencil to start making a peanut butter and jelly tortilla. He much preferred a sandwich, but bread molded too quickly, and a tortilla was easy enough to make. They made do with what they had. 

Arnold hummed, thinking long and hard. Kevin let out an impatient groan and opened the rickety ice box to grab some passionfruit jam. What he wouldn’t give for a deli sub right now. He was halfway through spreading the preserves across the tortilla when Arnold finally came up with an answer. Rather, Connor walked through the door and he sat up, announcing, “They’re coming in for lunch too.” 

Connor grinned, stepping into the kitchen to help Kevin with the lunches. “Ah, Elder Price thank you for making us something to eat.” He was still struggling to drop the formalities around the rest of the Elders it seemed. “Would you like any help?” Connor asked with a wide grin across his face. It was that genuine smile, the one that lit up the whole room. Kevin was glad to have a friend like him, one so caring and comprehensive – no offense to Arnold, of course. 

“Could you get some glasses on the table, I already have a pitcher of water over there.” Kevin did not smile back, though he could not help the corners of his lips from twitching upwards. Mentally he chided himself for being so harsh. This was just Connor, his friend, not one of the other Elders trying to humiliate him. 

If he had been offended by Kevin’s bluntness, Connor did not show it; instead, choosing to busy himself with the cups. He placed them neatly at each spot at the table, just in time for the others to enter the hut. “Wash your hands,” He scolded, narrowing his eyes at Elder Zelder who had tried to snatch a tortilla with dirt still crusted under his nails. That moment of distraction was all it took. 

A turn. A gasp. An obscenity. More gasps. A profuse apology. Screaming. Crying. So much screaming. Stomping feet. A slamming door. Shocked gazes focused on their district leader. 

Connor had turned to grab the pitcher of water, but it had turned out to be much closer to him than he had originally anticipated. His elbow clipped it, throwing it off balance, and it fell. Water spilled all over the table. All over Kevin’s hard work, ruining it. Upon hearing Connor’s gasp, Kevin turned. “Motherfucker!” He screamed, much to the surprise of the other Elders. 

“Kevin, I am so sorry. I didn’t see the jug. I swear, it was just an accident.” The fire in Kevin’s eyes struck fear into the very core of Connor’s being. “I will help you redo them, they’re still legible. See?” He went to hold one up and it tore right in half, figures. 

All those numbers. Ruined. All Kevin’s contributions. Destroyed. Valuable drinking water. Gone. How typical this situation was. Ever since Uganda Kevin Price was nothing but a disappointment. Even when he tried, everything fell apart. 

“Sorry isn’t going to bring that back.” His heart rate spiked. Kevin could hear his blood pounding. “Don’t you ever watch what you’re doing!? Are you always this clumsy or do you just enjoy making yourself a nuisance?” His face flushed and his palms grew sweaty and his eyes prickled with the beginnings of a meltdown, but he wouldn’t cry. Not in front of these people. 

Elder Church did it for him. Sobs wracked his body as he cried, “Please stop fighting. Please. Please.” Next to him, Elder Pop-Tarts did his best to hold him close and block out the screams, the bad memories. 

Connor stepped back, slapped by Kevin’s words, the other advanced. He was right in Connor’s face, too outraged to care about contact. “I- I apologized,” The redhead stammered, “It truly was an accident, I would never purposefully do something to hurt you.” That wasn’t good enough apparently because Kevin swooped in for another verbal assault. 

“And that’s supposed to help me how? Your dumbass couldn’t even pour out some water with ruining everything and now you expect me to just accept it?” Everything in his being screamed at him to calm down. Tears were rushing down Connor’s ruddy cheeks. Kevin did not stop. “I worked so hard and you come along and ruin it in an instant.” 

He stopped himself from saying anything else, scared that whatever may leave his mouth next would wound Connor too deeply. Kevin had never been known for controlling his temper well. That being said, Connor wasn’t exactly helping, he kept talking. “I said I would help you fix it-” 

“I don’t want your help! You’ve already fucked up trying to help, trying to be my friend. Leave me alone before you screw something else up.” Kevin shouted, spit flying off his lips in rage. His words were laced with venom and struck Connor so hard he staggered backwards, out of Kevin’s way, so he could storm off to his room and slam the door. 

Silence. 

Sobs could be heard from the other room. Muffled, but there nonetheless. 

Connor did not make a sound, letting silent tears rush down his face. 

Elder Church gave a scared hiccup and shook so bad his legs could barely support him. Nice going, Kevin. 

“He didn’t mean it,” Arnold spoke up, timidly as if scared breaking the silence would open the door to Kevin’s room and the fighting would commence once more. “He has a problem with not thinking before he speaks when he’s mad. It’s like me when I lie a lot. Kev can’t help it, honest.” 

Connor simply nodded, using a freckled hand to wipe at the tears on his face. “Well, let’s get this cleaned up and eat something.” He forced a smile onto his face. _Turn it off._

__

There, it was like the fight never even happened. 

__

In his room, Kevin sobbed into his pillow. Tears and hatred escaping him, not towards Connor, but everything that had happened to him since the day this damn mission started. He cried about not being assigned to Orlando, where nothing like this ever would have happened. He cried about their luggage being stolen and a man being shot in front of him. He cried about not being the next Prophet for a god that did not even exist to him anymore. But mostly, he cried about that incident that took away his innocence and kept all this bottled up inside. 

__

He cried because he could, if he didn’t do it now then the next time that he felt the blood rush to his head it would not explode. He cried because this meant that he was no longer numb. He cried because he had to go through the pain to come out a better, stronger person. He cried because he yelled at Connor, embarrassed him in front of the whole group, and ruined any chances of becoming his friend. 

__

Kevin cried so hard he passed out. Several hours later he was awoken by a soft knock on his door. “What?” He yawned, voice ragged with exhaustion. The sun was just beginning to set outside. It illuminated the room with mesmerizing hues of red. Then he remembered that Connor liked sunsets. The colors dulled, his chest felt hollow. The knocking came again, heavier and more insistent. “What the hell do you want?” Kevin hissed, sliding out of bed to open the door. 

__

On the other side stood a jittery Arnold, wringing his hands. “I just wanted to see if you were okay,” He squeaked, focusing on Kevin’s bare feet. There was a birthmark on the top of his right foot. Roughly shaped like cloud or a sheep, no one could really tell for certain. “I also wanted to ask if I could sleep in here or if you still needed time to calm down?” 

__

Kevin bit back the immediate reaction to curse Arnold for waking him up, and instead focused on how frazzled the poor kid looked. He was sweating still and fidgeting with a hangnail. “Yeah,” Kevin finally said, “I’m feeling much better, you can come sleep in here tonight.” 

__

A relieved grin spread across Arnold’s face and he looked up from Kevin’s feet. A lamb for sure, he decided. “Thanks, Kev. You’re my best friend.” He spoke in a jumble, tripping over his words as always. “We’re having dinner soon; do you want me to bring you something?” 

__

While there was a strong desire to eat seeing that Kevin had never gotten around to that peanut butter and jelly tortilla, he shook his head. “No thanks, I’m going to head to bed early. Hopefully, I can start redoing my project early tomorrow morning.” If he had wanted to be convincing, like the old Kevin would have been, he would have smiled and clapped Arnold on the shoulder. Instead, he just shut the door in his friend’s face. 

__

Muffled conversation outside the door kept Kevin up until the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. He was trapped in the darkness. 

__


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: homophobic language
> 
> It's a little short, sorry! I've been working on this as well as another story and all my AP classes so my schedule is a little hectic. Also, this style was different for me to write in, let me know what you think? Did I pull it off?

There was a lake behind the mission hut, about half a mile walk. The Elders went there on the unbearably hot days. Kevin stood there, the water up to his knees, completely alone. It was a little after noon judging on how high the sun was up in the sky; the others would should be back at the hut for lunch by now. They wouldn’t notice he was gone. He had not left his room since he blew up at Connor. 

He stared down at the water. The slightest jostle caused the water to form waves and ripple. Kevin tried to stay as still as he could, tried his hardest not to disturb the water, but he always moved when he shouldn’t have. There were always waves around him. 

Kevin had once been known for his ability to keep everything under control. The day after _it_ had happened he had tried to convince himself that it never even happened. Kevin spent every waking moment persuading himself that he was okay. There was nothing wrong and if _it_ did happen then it had to be his fault. 

_He_ walked into that camp. 

_He_ thought it was a good idea to go face to face with The General. 

_He_ was going to be the next Prophet. 

The waves around his legs rippled violently. Kevin had turned and stomped back to shore, until only his ankles were submerged. He had been in too deep, thought too hard. Nothing happened, it was fine. _He was fine._

The sun shone beat down on him, sweat pickled at his back and brow; his shirt had been discarded on the beach. There was a gentle breeze that swept through every few minutes and cut the heat. Sometimes if Kevin closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and took a deep breath then all the thoughts completely left his head. Gone with the Wind. 

His eyes fluttered open to stare at the cloudless blue sky. That was his mother’s favorite movie. He missed her. He missed his dad. He missed his mother. Kevin wanted to go home. He wanted-

“How long have you been here?” The question cut off his thoughts, said by none other than Connor McKinley. 

“No,” Kevin responded without turning around. He didn’t want to face him. He couldn’t face him. It seems like the choice wasn’t his to make because Connor slipped off his sandals and made his way to stand by Kevin. 

They stood in silence. The breeze did nothing to carry off Kevin’s thoughts. His mind was racing with what to say. Would he come off like an ass? Would Connor notice what he wasn’t saying? Would he even care? Did he still care? 

“You haven’t come out of your room in three days, Kevin-” they were alone now so he could be Kevin again- “have you even been eating? I’m worried.” Connor turned to him with wide eyes, brimming with tears. Kevin didn’t answer. He didn’t meet his gaze because he would start crying too. Not because he wasn’t eating or doing much moving, but because Connor still cared. Cared enough to come out and find him, to ask about him. 

“Kev,” Connor’s voice broke, “What’s going on with you? Talk to me, please.” The tears were flowing freely down his face, he waded forward to step in front of Kevin and forced him to look him in the eye. 

Kevin just shook his head softly and bit down on his lip. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill but he couldn’t let himself cry. If he cried, then it happened. It would make everything real. “I’m so sorry,” he said with a wheeze. Their gaze slipped as Kevin looked at the water. There were a lot of ripples now. 

He stepped forward, figuring the damage was already done, and wrapped his arms around Connor. For once, it was Connor’s turn to tense at the contact. It took a few moments hesitation to realize that Kevin was ok with this and he gently hugged him back. “Kev,” he said, but Kevin began to sob into shoulder. 

They stood there for a while as Kevin let everything loose. The water lapped at their ankles and the breeze came back, everything that wasn’t said was carried away. 

“Kev.” Connor pushed him back slightly to get a better look at him. He tilted his head up and stared at him. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” 

He wanted to, Kevin really wanted to, but staring into Connor’s eyes he realized that he couldn’t say it just now. It was a 3 a.m. conversation not a high noon conversation in the middle of a lake. He was stalling, he knew that, but he was so tired of being scared. 

In his head it was a good idea. Leaning forward and pressing his lip’s to Connor’s, who made a squeak of surprise but kissed back. Their eyes fluttered shut at the fairytale moment. 

When he finally pulled away, he wasn’t in a lake anymore and Connor wasn’t with him. He was in the kitchen of his old house, or some strange version of it. The walls, which had once been a powder blue with floral wallpaper as an accent, were now torched. Everything was burnt or currently burning. The floorboards were smashed to bit. His dad was standing in front of him, hands twisted in his hair. His head was on fire. 

“I thought I told you I didn’t want a fag for a son.” Spittle flew from his father’s lips. He gripped Kevin’s hair harder, causing the kid to cry out in pain. “You’re a disappointment. A disgrace,” he said and tossed Kevin onto the floor and kicked him out of his way. “I don’t want to see you ever again.” 

His mother stood off to the side with his older brother, Jack. There faces were unmoving as their broken son, brother reached out to them. “Dirty faggot,” they said, turning away without a hint of sympathy. Their eyes filled with apathy and disgust. 

Shaking and crying he barely found the strength to make it to his feet. He ran out of the house, with his father screaming at him the entire way. As he burst out of the house he was back in Uganda. It was on fire too. 

The villagers were rushing around, wailing, and attempting to put out the fire that consumed their huts. The Elders where there too, shirts off. His eyes immediately went to find Connor, but every time his eyes would land on him someone would scream and fall to the ground- on fire. 

He turned and ran. Always running. Away from his family, his fears, his problems, his mistakes. His legs burned, his lungs burned, everything around him burned. Tears of fire ran down his face. He stopped only when he got to the lake, to his safe place. 

The General was there. Standing where Connor had been. That’s all it took for him to stumble. 

Kevin found himself sprawled across the dirt path, he had no where else to go. This was hell, he was sure of it. Not just a dream, but actually hell. 

“Kevin,” The General shouted at him from the lake. He could hear the water splashing violently as he moved towards Kevin. The sloshing water changed quickly to boots crunching on the rocks and dirt. He counted three steps before The General reached him. “I have a friend who is dying to meet you.” 

He heard the booming laugh, it shook him to his core. He felt The General kneel down beside him, it was accompanied by a hand touching his neck. He cautiously opened his eyes, vision blurred with tears, and could just barely make out The General’s features melting right off his face. His flesh bubbled and boiled until it slid right off his skeleton, his eyes turned black, his teeth went jagged and sharp, his nose become hooked, and two horns sprouted from his head. 

“Keep up the good work, Kev,” The devil hissed at him, forked tongue springing out to taste the fear surrounding him. “At this rate, you’ll be mine for all of eternity.” 

A black fingernail dragged itself down Kevin’s thin cheek. Once. Twice. Three times. Blood trickled down his face. It seeped out with his tears. Around him the world burned. He clenched his eyes shut, screaming. When he opened them, the world was still burning. Again. 

When his eyes opened. the room to his mission hut was silent. Arnold had taken to sleeping on the couch these last three days- only coming into his room to grab clothes or bring Kevin some food. The latest meal, pasta with a stale roll, sat untouched on his dresser. 

He thought back to the beginning of that hell dream, when Connor first found him at the lake. Kevin sat up and reached over. He grabbed the roll with a soft sigh. No one had come to check on him, not even Connor. He threw the roll across the room with a loud scream. 

There was too much to keep inside of him. Everything burned. His attempts at control were only killing him. 

The fire may have vanished from the village and his home, but now it was trapped inside him, looking for anyway to escape. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments/kudos are appreciated! Constructive criticism helps me improve as a writer and is always welcome. Any ideas you would like to see later in the fic are welcome as well :)


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't really have a specific tw but is generally upsetting, poor Kev is dealing with a lot.  
> Also I wanted to apologize for my style being so all over the place with every chapter, I don't know what's been going on with that. I hope you enjoy! I've been working hard on this story!

No one was coming, that much was clear to Kevin Price as he neared his fifth day of not eating, not bathing, of drifting in and out of fitful hell dreams. Arnold had permanently taken residence with Naba. There had been a long string of apologies and sniffles on his part as he sheepishly admitted he could barely take care of himself without Kevin’s help and as much as he loved Kevin – because he really did love Kevin – there was no way he could take care of him. 

Arnold leaving hurt less that it should have. It made sense, Arnold was not built for role of caretaker, not without someone to assist him. He wasn’t made to be leader of a new religion either, but somehow that had taken place, even though Connor McKinley had taken the forefront in enforcing the rules. Nothing was jarringly surprising to Kevin anymore. Everything had transfixed itself into that dull ache between his ribs, constantly there. Reminding him that he messed up, that he got what he deserved, that he was broken, unloved, and, most importantly, a disappointment. 

It had taken him five days to grow sick of waiting for someone to care. Kevin Price may have slipped back into that dark place in his mind, but he would be damned if he didn’t receive what he wanted, when he wanted it. It was a Price tradition passed down from generations of crabby boys, turning into stubborn men, and then into irritable, wrinkling old men. 

Kevin supposed he couldn’t call himself a Price anymore. Not after that phone call a few weeks ago, where someone answered only to hang up once they realized it was him. He had already been exiled from the church thanks to this stunt, being disowned from his family shouldn’t hurt any more so than what he had immersed himself in, his hopes and goals in, for the past 12 years of his life. Still, he missed Jack. So much it hurt him way worse than anything The General could ever do to him. 

If Jack was here, he would kick down the door and curse at Kevin – in the most borderline to breaking those famed Mormon rules fashion he could – for allowing himself to fall this far. Hell, Kevin had gotten out a shovel and dug himself into a deeper hole. In the darkness of his room, Kevin smiled. Yeah, that’s exactly what Jack would say. 

Once upon a time, they had done everything together. Even after he had lied about that maple doughnut, he and Jack remained close. He distinctly remembered Jack _laughing_ when he found out that Kevin had lied, claiming he was finally one step closer to breaking that poster-boy Mormon act. It wasn’t that Jack was a bad Mormon, no, he truly believed in the Church’s teachings as Kevin once had. The absurd amount of rules, the micromanaging, was what got to Kevin’s older brother. He had seen the smallest acts tear families apart; it had almost torn his to shreds, long before Kevin was born, and Jack was the ripe age of 6 years old without a clue as to why Mom and Dad would fight over a pot of coffee. 

He missed Jack and only Jack. Everything else back home could burn in hell – he shuddered at the thought. No, he still loved his mom and his dad. Even if they were dicks. If it weren’t for them Kevin Price wouldn’t be who he was. They could kick him out, but Kevin was a Price through and through and he refused to let someone cast him aside without so much as a say in the matter. Jack would back him up, no doubt about it. On the next phone day, he would call Jack’s cell phone instead of the house. Ten minutes would be torture, surely not enough time to tell him everything that he wished, but he had to talk to Jack. He needed to have something, even if that something was thousands of miles away, grounding him to this life. 

If he didn’t have Jack or his family or Arnold or, even, Connor freakin’ McKinley, then he had absolutely nothing. Without a purpose, Kevin Price was a nobody. He was just a foolish boy, wasting away in a bed because he was convinced that someone would swoop in and save him. 

“Fuck this,” he said in a hoarse voice. Kevin had spent the past five days crying or remaining silent, whatever voice he had certainly wasn’t used to being operated just yet. He pushed himself off the cot and onto his feet, swaying only slightly. That alone was something to take pride in. A step in the right direction, towards the door. “I’ll be my own goddamn hero.” 

Sleeping through the past five days with minimal bathroom breaks really threw off a person’s perception of time. His window claimed it was nighttime: the galaxy swirling through the night sky, waving at the sliver of the moon as it passed by. However, when he had gone to bed it had been dark too. Was this actually day six? Could he have really slept away an entire day and not known it? Or was the darkness simply a result of him obtaining a max of two hours of sleep and he’s still in the same day? Everything was so much more confusing when he found himself alone. 

Kevin Price, he would always be a Price whether they wanted him to be or not, stepped into the hall. If there was anyone to save him then he only trusted himself. At least, that’s what he was trying to convince himself. He steeled himself with a few deep breaths and walked further into the hut. 

The lounge was milling with activity, the Elders playing what few board games they could afford. Connor McKinley stood off to the side as supervisor. The mood was light from what Kevin could tell. Everyone was laughing, some of it sounded forced, for Connor’s sake apparently. Nervous glances were thrown his direction, the ginger paying no mind to them. He would stiffen and wring his hands, muttering something under his breath that no one could truly make out. 

Kevin took step into the dim lighting and waited as the room went silent. All eyes were on him, blinking quickly in disbelief. Connor’s eyes were the last to turn their gaze to Kevin. Those were the ones that shattered the pleasant mood, contorted it into agony. Tears had immediately sprung into his friend’s eyes as he croaked out a soft, “Hey, Kev. How are you feeling?” 

The words sucked the air out of the room. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for an explosion and Kevin’s heart sank. Was he really just a ticking time bomb? The room grew hot. Hotter than the 90 degrees it already was, humid too, like he couldn’t grab a decent breath. He knew it was a mistake. He should have stayed in his room. Never came out again. 

Then, out of nowhere, he caught his breath and steeled himself once more. He would be the one to save himself. “Um.” He cleared his throat a couple times. “I’m hungry?” He said, though it sounded more like a question. He could save himself, but a little help wouldn’t hurt. 

Connor nodded eagerly, bounding over to assist Kevin. “I’ll make you something!” and with that, he was in the kitchen whipping something out. Kevin stood in the same spot, dumbstruck. 

It was Poptarts who spoke up next. “You have to apologize,” He said, the rest of the group murmuring a quiet agreement, “He’s cried himself to sleep every night because he’s convinced you hate him. We’ve been picking up his slack on the garden project since he can’t focus on anything anymore.” 

Kevin nodded and tried his hardest to smile in reassurance to no avail. A soft sigh left his lungs and he spoke, “I will. I promise, but I have to explain a lot of why I’ve been acting like this-” His words got stuck in his throat, would they all ask? Did they respect him enough to let him come to them? “I just need to talk to him alone first, please.” 

To his surprise, it was Elder Michaels that began cleaning up. The others followed suit. “If I find out that I cleaned up this intense game of Uno for nothing,” Elder Zelder spoke with frightening malice, “I will be forced to leave you outside for the lions.” Nice to see that the Mormon had wiped off some of them almost as quickly as it had washed off Kevin. 

“I promised.” He held his hands up in the universal gesture of ‘I mean no harm’ and that seemed to satisfy them all as they filed out of the lounge and into their rooms. Kevin positioned himself on the couch, pondering all the ways to approach this conversation. 

How does one just spring this topic onto someone? Kevin was known for being blunt, uncaring of anyone beside himself, but Connor was overly empathetic; Kevin cared a great deal for him, a surprise to everyone. He had to be gentle for both their sakes. 

Around ten minutes later, Connor poked his head out of their little kitchenette and gave a small frown in Kevin’s general direction. Food typically wasn’t allowed in the lounge area, but it had been a rough couple of days, so he got a pass. The food was plated, he took a deep breath, steeling himself. 

“Dinner is served.” Connor placed the watery re-heated soup in front of Kevin with a flourish and handed him a stale chunk of bread. Their fingers brushed and Kevin didn’t jerk away, even though his mind screamed at him to run. Progress. He dug into the soup, coughing lightly at the temperature, but Connor made no move to help. Last time that hadn’t ended so well. 

They waited in silence, as silent as it could be with Kevin slurping down his soup in the most unbecoming fashion a person could fashion. Still, he got a pass. Connor would always give him a pass. Even when it took him 45 minutes to finish one bowl of soup. It was obvious Kevin was stalling, as much as he wished it wasn’t. 

The bowl was empty and, with a deep breath, set aside along with along with all – well, most – of Kevin’s fears. He stared at his hands. There was a hang nail he picked at, picking and picking and picking, and then it began to bleed. Connor sighed and gently pressed a napkin to it, careful not to touch Kevin. 

In his head, Kevin always imagined the conversation to start with him apologizing. Connor always managed to surprise him. “I wanted to apologize,” he said as he applied pressure to the wound, “for ruining your blueprints. I know you worked hard on those and I was being careless, but I promise none of it was ever to hurt you.” He stopped, Kevin opened his mouth to explain his actions, but Connor was having none of that. 

“I’m serious, Kev.” Connor stared him right in the eye, biting down on his lip in an attempt to hold back tears. “I would never want to hurt you, ever. To think that you might hate me, it’s been tearing me apart. I can’t concentrate knowing that you’re mad at me and I really need you to know that I am deeply and truly sorry.” 

Kevin Price rarely cried in company, Arnold being the only exception or if he was in the midst of a panic attack. Connor’s apology had him sobbing. He waited until the boy made of sunshine had finished bearing his soul, and when he took a breath to begin his own apologies all that came out was a loud, wet sob. To his surprise, he reached out and hugged Connor, for the briefest of seconds before quickly pulling away and wrapping his arms around himself. Still, progress. 

It took him five minutes to stop sobbing enough to form a sentence. Connor was patient. Kevin didn’t deserve him, not someone so caring, not someone so concerned. “I should be apologizing,” He said, avoiding eye contact as he calmed himself down, “I blew up at you for something that was not your fault and I can’t let you believe that it was.” 

“I don’t hate you, Connor. I could never hate you, but something- a traumatic event- happened to me and I have been struggling to cope with it.” Kevin fumbled for the right words. He was such a mistake, this conversation was a mistake, he should just go back to his room. 

Connor nodded. “Of course, you saw that man get shot- God, how could I be so stupid! I should have talked to you about it. I’m so sorry, Kev. I promise, I’m here for you-” he was interrupted, gently, not to hurt his feelings. 

“It wasn’t that, though that hasn’t been easy to deal with either.” Kevin licked his lips, closed his eyes, and clenched his fists. “I don’t hate you, Connor. You have no reason to apologize, this is entirely on me, okay?” Kevin said and opened his eyes before continuing, “and I think you have the right to know why I exploded at you.” 

A deep breath. A gaze to meet. A story to be told. Tears to fall. So many tears to fall. A broken boy and the tape to help put him back together. 


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for sexual assault
> 
> I kept this chapter short because it is full of heavy material. I had no clue how to even going about writing this and kept it vague, which somehow made the experience Kevin had feel even worse. Feedback on this would be great as well as requests on where you want to see the story go next. I really want to incorporate ideas, even small quotes or something, you all have for this.

There was no easy way to vocalize what had happened to Kevin. It had taken ten minutes for him to even meet Connor’s eyes and by that point he had begun to cry harder than he had ever cried before. The thought of merely reliving the moment was enough to make him breakdown. 

Connor was patient, much to Kevin’s relief. This story was not one to be rushed through. It was personal, more than personal, it had influenced who Kevin would be for the rest of his life; he would always carry the weight of this experience. 

There was an eerie lapse in cries on Kevin’s part. The moment had arrived. 

“I was sexually assaulted,” he spoke objectively. This was a fact. He had been, no denying it. In the moment, there had been no hesitation. Kevin was able to say it without fear, even if it was for just a moment, before the realization of just how massive this confession truly was. 

The words felt heavy while simultaneously liberating Kevin from their icy grip. He had spoken of it for the first time, ever. 

They had not been spoken when the villagers found him, weak and confused with blood rushing down his legs. They had not been spoken when The Elders had questioned his angry fits shortly after. They had not been spoken during the days Kevin laid in his room, alone in the dark with no judgement should he have chosen to speak of what had happened. Somehow, he had spoken them plain as day. 

Connor’s expectant countenance morphed into one of concern, not of the mask of pity Kevin had expected. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, and Kevin came close to weeping once more. It was so very Connor to put others needs above anyone else. 

“I think.” Kevin took a deep breath and licked his lips, gauging how ready he really was. “I think I just want a hug. He-” here a ragged cry ripped through his body and the walls came tumbling- “took away the safety contact brings me- I just want it back. I really, really just want to take my life back.” 

He felt so small, looked so small. The boy, more limbs than anything else, was folding in on himself and it tore Connor’s heart to shreds. There was absolutely nothing Kevin could have ever done to deserve the pain inflicted upon him. 

“Ok, but I’m going to ask that you hug me. I want to make sure you’re sure that you’re ok with touching right now.” Kevin was grateful for that, for Connor. He was most likely flying by the seat of his pants, at least that’s what he hoped because he could never wish the pain that sexual assault brings on anyone, but he was still trying his best to help. 

There was no rush. Kevin took his time deciding if he was ready. He had the opportunity to take control back in his life; this time in a way that really mattered and not in a perfectly drawn line he would obsess over for hours. Plus, it was Connor offering to assist him. He felt safer next to Connor than anywhere else in Uganda. 

It came to no surprise that skinny arms soon wrapped around Connor’s neck and hesitantly squeezed. They waited a second, for some wild reaction out of Kevin but none ever came and only then did Connor hug back. 

Small sobs escaped the abused and a freckled hand went to the back of his neck, languidly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Much to his surprise, Kevin allowed this to happen. Connor was sure he felt the boy press into his touch, but that could have been his mind playing tricks on him. 

“I thought I was going to be the next Prophet,” Kevin said, voice thick with tears, “I marched right into that camp.” 

Connor listened intently, this was not just a story to be brushed aside. Kevin deserved to be heard. His story needed to be told, slowly if that was what he chose, but told nonetheless. He traced small stars on Kevin’s neck, a small reminder; he was here, he cared, and he would help. 

“I was so stupid. I should have known- I should have known better.” His frail body trembled as he wept. Everything was too much, overwhelming his every thought, every movement, every sentence – no, word – that left his body; he clenched his eyes shut in silent defiance against this apprehension, he would survive, he was strong, and he would prevail. 

The was a lull in the story. The lounge filled with the sounds of heartbreak and despair. In Elder McKinley’s room, the Elders listened to the whispers and cries of pain. Poptarts and the others made the executive decision that tomorrow would be a day to relax, the two needed more than one night to talk, and everyone wanted to make sure that Kevin knew he had people in his corner. Judging by the heaving sounds he made when he wailed, whatever had happened was making the poor kid sick. 

“He, he took The Book of Mormon- that fucking book-” the cries shuddered to a stop, cold hatred twisted into Kevin’s features, but his voice rang flat and apathetic- “and bent me over, pulled down my pants, and he- and he took the book-” 

“Oh, Kev,” Connor cut him off, pressing him closer to his chest. Tears of his own spilling down his cheeks. He had not expected it to be this extreme. “Oh, Kev,” he repeated because he didn’t know what else to say, how were you supposed to comfort someone who was sodomized? 

“It was not your fault, you hear me? Kevin, you did nothing wrong. It is not your fault,” Connor said, refusing to let the crying boy go. Kevin nodded weakly and tightened his hold on his friend, his safety net. It was too much pressure for one person, they would have to sort that out later, right now he needed someone else to place this pressure off. He needed a chance to breathe. 

What had Poptarts said? There was something Kevin needed to do, but he couldn’t remember. Had he already done it? He could only remember The General’s rough hands on his waist, the sound of his wrinkled trousers ripping, the pain, the blood. Too much all at once. If he didn’t breath soon then he would be forced to recede inside himself for longer than a few days. 

He stared at a constellation of freckles on Connor’s neck. It was like staring at the clouds, he could shape whatever his imagination would allow. There was a book, he didn’t like that one, but it also could be a sunrise if he took a few more freckles into account. A boxy, poorly imagined sunrise, but a sunrise- no, Connor didn’t like sunrises- a sunset then, boxy sunset. 

An apology, that’s what Poptarts had wanted. He had already done that though, apologized for hurting the only person who seemed to care about him anymore. Arnold was too anxious around Kevin after those days locked alone in his room. He had become a monster, a real dick. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to apologize once more. 

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said, but before he could continue Connor cut him off. 

“I know, you’ve already apologized, and I forgive you for your behavior. It’s clear you have been dealing with a lot and I want you to know that it is not your fault. I really want you to know that, okay?” Connor said but only got a whimper in response. 

No words were spoken after that. Whether Kevin believed what Connor was saying to comfort him, went unsaid. He cried until his body ran out of tears and he was forced into a sleep. Exhaustion won over as always. 

Connor clung to Kevin, wrapping the sleeping boy in his arms with a strong refusal to let go. Poptarts came out sometime around one in the morning and Connor was still awake, holding him. He had not slept at all. Instead, spending all this time to run his fingers through Kevin’s hair and quietly whisper how proud he was that Kevin was staying so strong. When the boy shifted or whimpered in his sleep, Connor was there to tell him softly that he was safe. He was safe. 

“I can’t let him go,” Connor whispered, pulling away from Poptarts when he reached out to peel Kevin off him, “He needs me, and I won’t just abandon him. His family already has done that. We’re all he has.” 

The sun rose at seven am, Kevin was still asleep against an aching Connor. There was a crick in his neck and his back was sore from falling asleep sitting up but seeing how much healthier Kevin looked after merely telling his story was well worth it. His brown eyes weren’t as dull and withdrawn as they had been, when he smiled there were dimples in his cheeks. They vanished quickly, however; this was not a fairy tale. Nothing could be solved in a single chapter. 

But it was progress. They looked at each other, new tears slipping down their cheeks. What a beautiful word: progress. 


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself.  
> I don't know why this took so long. I didn't proofread it because I figured I would get it out soon as I finished considering it's been almost a month since this thing has been updated.  
> Sorry? Hope you like it?

Chapter 6

Recovery wasn’t black and white, Kevin knew that. There was a lot of grey areas. Some days were better than others. 

In the past few weeks he had only locked himself away for one day, well half a day; Connor had burst in with lunch and the two sat in silence. It wasn’t a good day, but his presence made it more tolerable. 

When he had woken up the next morning, Connor’s sleeping figure could be seen by the door. He had fallen asleep reading and, no matter how much he may deny doing it, Kevin had woken in the night after tossing and turning to hear Connor’s voice reciting Shakespeare in the near darkness. 

It was moments like those that truly pulled Kevin out of his worst moments. Hell, they even prevented entire breakdowns. 

Just a few days ago, Elder Church had bumped into Kevin and spilled paint all over him when they were out finishing the community garden. Connor had finagled the budget to splurge on a few buckets of deep green paint. He insisted that a little bit of color would brighten everyone’s moods until the plans from the school were completed. 

Somehow, Kevin had been convinced to leave the mission hut. It was the first time he had stepped foot outside since the incident with The General. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He had tried helping once or twice but each one ended with him exploding into curses and storming off. When Elder Church had spilled paint on him everyone feared the same would occur. 

“Oh my goodness, Elder Kevin I am so sorry.” Elder Church made to wipe at the paint on him and Kevin visibly stiffened at idea of making contact. It was hard enough to let Arnold and Connor touch him some days and that was with his consent. 

Sensing his discomfort, Connor stepped in and assumed his role as leader. “Thank you, Elder Church,” he had said. “We know it was an accident. Right Elder Price?” 

Kevin’s eye twitched, his lips turning into a sneer, and every voice in his head screamed at him to stand his ground. Adrenaline overrode his system. Fight-or-flight. He would not be caught off guard once more. 

Connor watched carefully. His gazed dragged over the stiff stance the boy had taken, shielding himself from the world in an awkward, hunched stature. “Kevin? Elder Church meant you no harm. Once you realize that I can help you change out of these dirty clothes, okay?” 

At the use of his real name, the title Elder had no meaning to him anymore, Kevin let his guard down. Connor was here, he trusted Connor. The rest of the Elder’s watched, many with pity, but this time they knew that there was a reason behind his behavior. They did not know what, though it was enough to rationalize that he had been through a trauma and did not mean to attack them so. 

He nodded slowly, blinking and looking around at the blank stares from the others. 

“Just an accident,” Kevin said, staring down at the green seeping through his thin shirt and staining his skin. It would take 52 hard scrubs to fade the color, 43 more just to be sure, and that was just a rough estimate. His skin would be raw and burning, but he had to be sure the unclean coating no longer had its effect on him. 

“Just an accident,” Connor repeated and stuck out his, waiting for Kevin to initiate the contact per usual. 

Kevin stared at the waiting hand as if it were a snake waiting to strike, but when he follows the hand up to find Connor’s soft face with a patient smile he finds the courage to take it. 

Connor leads him down the worn dirt path, kicking at gravel and sand as they walk, and looking over his shoulder to make sure Kevin is okay. The rest of the Elders resumes their work. Faint mummers can be heard about Kevin’s current state. Some glad he is recovering, others unsure if it will last, and most of disgust at the hand holding. 

When they finally reach the cabin, Connor struggles to tell Kevin he needs to disrobe. It should have been common knowledge, but Kevin was going through phases of blank staring and awareness. The last thing he wanted was to trigger a flashback if he tried to undress him himself. 

“Hey, Kev?” He asked. There was no response, Kevin stared blankly. He had not gotten the strong rush of emotions and adrenaline, Connor had prevented that outburst, and now he struggled to cope. He shut down rather than reliving that panic. “Kev?” 

At the second use of his nickname something clicked. Uganda. Connor. Community garden. He was safe. He had his rock. 

“Sorry, I was just-” 

Just what? How could he even explain the constant shutting down? Connor wouldn’t understand, no, he would just pity him, but this was Connor and he did not pity Kevin; so then why could he not find a way to explain what he wanted someone else to desperately understand? 

“No need to explain. You’re working things out,” Connor said with a reassuring smile. His eyes flickered down to Kevin’s paint covered clothes. 

“Oh!” It was as though he was just seeing them for the first time. Kevin’s brow furrowed at the sight. “I, um, did I blow up?” He asked softly, and, to his relief, Connor was shaking his head. 

“No, you did very good actually. Making progress every day, I’m proud.” 

Something in the way Connor said that made his heart swell. His throat was thick with emotion. Kevin knew that he cared for Connor as a friend, someone who was helping him cope through this horrible situation, but he couldn’t help to wonder if there was something more. If there could ever be something more. 

He was still staring at the paint on his shirt. It was a large stain covering most of his torso, luckily still wet which meant it would be much easier to wash out of the shirt; it also meant more likely to transfer onto anything else he touched. 

“I- this is going to sound weird, but can you help me get this off?” Kevin asked, gesturing to his shirt. He could not handle touching the paint. It would transfer to his hands or his face and he would spend hours scrubbing with the burning water he loathed to rid himself of the feeling. 

Connor’s ears went pink. “Are you sure?” His voice was thick with concern, Kevin’s heart swelled. Someone still cared, even after all the shit he had put them through. He nodded. 

“If I touch it then I’ll freak, trust me I would much rather not stand in the shower for two hours scrubbing at my skin.” Kevin attempted a laugh, but it came out more strangled than he had intended. 

Connor nodded, moving closer, and grabbing at the hem of Kevin’s shirt. He paused for a moment, taking a second to inhale fully. He had been dreaming of this moment ever since Elder Cunningham and he had arrived in the village. 

“Turn it off.” He muttered, to which prompted Kevin to ask. 

“What?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Oh, I thought you said something?” 

Connor forced a laugh. “Nope, you ready?” He sure as hell wasn’t. Kevin was because he gulped and nodded. 

The shirt came off. Paint coated Kevin’s surprisingly built torso. There weren’t any washboard abs, but a distinct outline of a well exercised core and his pecs looked like they had had their fair share of work. Kevin stared at his body, he could see the flaws, but who could blame him after being in a foreign country for months, especially with what he had been through. 

They stood. Kevin could feel Connor’s warm breath on his bare chest. The paint was tightening as he dried, alarms went off in his head. He needed to wash this off. He needed to run, Kevin was exposed, vulnerable. He wanted to stay, take Connor in his arms; instead, he ran to the showers and scrubbed at his skin for an hour. 

Recovery had a lot of grey areas and Kevin was in it. 

The paint incident had not been brought up again, by any of the Elders, but it had seemed unanimous that Kevin stay inside and work on the plans for the school once more. He had begun them again – hold the water – and they were turning out rather nice. The precision and perfection the plans required helped to ease his mind. 

“It’s therapeutic.” He told Connor over a lunch of roasted pineapple, cow peas, and rice. What he wouldn’t give for a cheesy slice of pizza. 

The other Elders were immersed in their own conversations, choosing to ignore whatever bond the district leader had created with the new problem child, Elder Cunningham had taken up preaching in the village full-time and only visited with Nabalungi every once and a while. 

“I get it, it’s like when I used to dance,” Connor said between mouthfuls of pineapple. The boy practically inhaled his fruit. “If things got too stressful it was healthier to dance it out.” 

Before he could respond, the door to the hut flung open. 

“Hi guys!” The familiar screech echoed through the hut. There were a few groans, but everyone else mostly turned on their poster Mormon (well ex-Mormon) smiles and welcomed Elder Cunningham. 

“Arnold!” Kevin cried, practically launching out of his seat to hug his best friend. It had been five days since he had seen him last. The meant 120 hours lacking in obnoxious jokes, 7,200 minutes with no obscure pop culture references, and approximately 216,000 seconds without that familiar snoring resonating through his room. 

Arnold wrapped his arms tightly around Kevin. “I missed you so much!” He squealed as only Arnold can squeal, it was clear he was keeping from jumping up and down and shaking Kevin up too much. It was only recently that contact was okay again. 

The rest of the room processed in Arnold’s mind, seeing he began to eagerly wave to the rest of the Elders. “You guys are eating!” He glanced to see an open spot with a half-eaten plate. His gaze returned to his best friend. “Even you? That’s great Kevin!” 

All the excitement of Arnold’s arrival was sucked out of the air at that statement. No one else seemed very excited. Everyone was tired of hearing about how great Kevin was doing or how much Kevin was struggling. If only they knew what he had went through, then they would care. They would care like Connor and Arnold do. 

The awkward silence did not last, thankfully, because Nabalungi entered the hut with the close to broken landline they had bought in town. 

“Neuropharmacology and I wanted to surprise you guys!” Arnold was hopping all over the room before crashing into his girlfriend and hugging her tightly. “We’re giving you the landline for good so you all can call when you have the money.” 

A round of cheer went up, but Kevin’s breath left his body in one fell swoop. The phone. The phone that only comes around once a month. The phone that would now sit in this hut and haunt him, remind him that his family doesn’t love him. 

There was clamoring to plug in the landline, arguments to see who would call home first. Kevin grabbed Connor’s wrist and dragged him to his room. His eyes were watering, and he stumbled into the door on the way in. By the time they were sitting on the bed, Kevin was openly crying. 

“Hey, Kev, what’s up? You were just so happy to see Arnold.” Connor bent to look Kevin in the face, well try to. Kevin had hunched over, covering his mouth with both hands to silence a sob. 

“I am happy to see him,” Kevin said with a wheeze. “It’s just that the phone means calling home and I can’t do that. No one will answer. No one cares. I’m all alone. I can’t live with myself if I have that- that reminder that my family hates me.” 

He threw his arms around Connor in a hug that was quickly reciprocated. “This must be really hard for you, but we can always try calling them now. Your brother might answer, wouldn’t you feel better knowing that you tried? That way there won’t be that regret later on.” His high school psychology class was coming in handy. What little advice he could construe he at least wanted to sound professional. 

Kevin kept crying but nodded and eventually admitted that Connor had a point. “I would feel better being able to tell Jack that I tried. My dad would try and twist it to make it seem like I abandoned them.” 

It took Kevin 1,380 seconds to stop crying. He had gone two days without breaking down like that, and honestly needed to relieve himself from the weight of his emotions somehow. Maybe this time, just maybe, he would find himself in a longer span of the lighter grey area of recovery. 

The two exited his room, ignoring the nasty looks he got for having his bony fingers wrap around Connor’s pale and fleshy wrist. He patiently waited in line, each Elder taking ten minutes in the room Connor had claimed to be his office. At least it was private. 

Finally, it was his turn. Kevin couldn’t bring himself to step across the threshold into the room with the phone. That damn phone. 

“Well, Kev, aren’t you going to call your mom?” Arnold asked, blatant confusion written across his features. 

“I am,” Kevin said, turning to Connor instead. “Can you come with me, please?” 

Arnold opened his mouth to volunteer his services, but Connor cut him off. “Of course I can, you don’t have to ask, silly.” He teased with a toothy grin. 

They entered the room together. Kevin crossing with Connor in tow, he let go of his wrist and sat down in front of the phone. Connor stood behind him, clearly hovering, but still trying to give him space. 

Kevin took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder at Connor. The phone sat in front of him, waiting patiently for him to make a move. Connor lifted his hand and rested it on Kevin’s shoulder; he squeezed a gentle reassurance. Kevin’s heart fluttered at the contact. It was the first time Connor had touched him, not the other way around. Not the usual. 

This whole ordeal wasn’t the usual. Maybe that’s what gave him the courage. 

He picked up the phone, dialed the number, held his breath, and listened. 


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month since I've updated this, but I come with good news! I've graduated high school, which means that it's officially summer for me and I have time to write. :)))
> 
> Please please please leave me comments, ask me about the story! I love getting feedback and I love knowing what I can improve or if y'all like where the story is headed so far. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and enjoy!!

Chapter 7

His ears were ringing, or was that the phone that was ringing? Kevin honestly could not tell the difference. It had been ringing for far too long. How long does the average phone ring for? Was is different in Uganda? 

Kevin shifted in his seat. “Pick up,” he whispered, voicing breaking before he could voice the desperate plea that should have followed. 

There was just that endless ringing. 

Connor stood behind him, hand still supporting him. No words of support were offered, but the gentle rubbing of Kevin’s neck said it all. His stomach flipped at the contact. Tears pricked at his eyes, the care Connor took in the way he touched, or even looked at Kevin, melted his heart. So much crying had happened since Kevin landed in Uganda. 

The phone was still ringing, why couldn’t his family just love him? He wanted to be happy. Kevin ran a shaky hand across his cheeks, wiping at the stray tears that had fallen, and let out a frantic sigh. 

“Fuck this.” He was going to be happy. Kevin Price looked over his shoulder at his sunburnt friend and smiled. Fuck this, he wanted to be happy. 

“Excuse me?” The ringing was replaced with a gruff voice, one thick with sleep. Kevin’s chest tightened, his vision swam, and his knees went weak. Thankfully, he was sitting. 

When had the ringing stopped? “Hello? Who the hell is calling me in the middle of the night?” The panicked feelings passed. His father would never curse so carelessly like that. He tugged at his ear, a high-pitched ringing persisted. 

“Jack?” Kevin asked, taking his first tentative breath of the conversation. 

“Kevie?” His brother mimicked the breath. There was loud shuffling on the other end, the sliding of a screen door, and a slightly louder voice. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling home,” he said with a quiet laughter. 

Kevin began to shake with his own laughter. He missed the sarcastic banter with his older brother and the crisp Utah weather. He missed his mom’s late-night cooking whenever he was anxious over a bible study and his father’s tough love. 

He missed home, but that was gone. Connor was ever present, in the best possible way. Kevin couldn’t help but hyper focus on his presence. It helped, having someone there to support him through this, someone to turn to. Kevin had a new home now; it had destroyed him at first, but this was progress. The ringing in his ears had quieted. Progress. 

“I just- I missed you,” Kevin said, staring at the desk in front of him. Some papers were poking out of one of the drawers. One of the corners were bent and it was making his foot twitch. The fingers holding the phone tapped anxiously. Jack was talking again, he ignored the papers. 

“I miss you too,” Jack said, laughing again to dislodge the awkward emotional silence. “When you coming home, Kevie? I really admire what you’re doing, but seriously? This isn’t going to last. The money will run out eventually, the longer you stay away the less likely dad will take you back, and I really don’t want to read about how a group of boys were mauled to death by some lions in Africa.” 

A small groan escaped Kevin. This was not how he wanted his first conversation with his brother since the excommunication to go. “Jack, it’s already been a few months and we’re doing just fine,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m helping people who need it. You of all people should be supporting that. I’m learning who I am.” 

Kevin so badly had wanted to tell Jack what The General had done, all the pain he had gone through, but he could hear now how concerned his brother was. The time would arise, eventually. This conversation would wait until his plane landed in Salt Lake City and his mother and father were there, to feel the regret of abandoning their son firsthand. 

“Come home,” Jack said, but was cut short. The sliding door was being opened and there were muffled whispers. 

“Jack?” Kevin asked, handing holding the beginning to shake. The whispers turned to yelling, so loud that he had to hold the phone away from his ear. The ringing was back. Everything was ringing. 

Connor moved closer, crouching next to Kevin, and grabbing the phone from Kevin. “Hey, Kev. You doing okay?” He asked, earning a rough shake of the head from his companion. Connor was too close; his face was red at their proximity. Kevin couldn’t form a sentence. “Maybe it’s time to say goodbye? We can always call again next week.” 

Kevin didn’t want to say goodbye. This was his brother, his best friend, how could someone just hang up on that? He stared at Connor, hoping those sweet dimples would have an answer. His face was passive, patiently waiting for Kevin to take the reins on this one. He took the phone back. 

“Jack? I know it’s late so I’m going to let you go,” he said, voice wavering but powered through nonetheless. “I’ll talk to you later?” 

The shouting on the other end ceased for a few moments, audible wrestling over ownership of the call. It was his father who won, holding the phone up to his ear to hear the breathing of his youngest son. 

“No, you will not call here again Kevin. Is that understood?” He said, talking over the loud protests from Jack in the back. 

Kevin opened his mouth but faltered. This was it. He was about to hang up on the only family he had ever known. The father who taught him how to ride a bike, who taught him how to tie a tie, and hung his very first A+ up on the fridge. The brother who would pick on Kevin constantly, even if it meant being reprimanded by mom, but would always come home with black eyes and bruised knuckles from beating up all the bullies that targeted Kevin. This was it. 

He took a shaky breath. Connor was still kneeling at his side, wrapping his arms around him in a comforting hug. “You can do this,” he whispered. 

Connor was right; if Kevin could overcome literal hell, then hanging up this phone was child’s play. 

“Kevin? I asked a question, I expect a response,” his father said. 

“Sorry. I understand, sir.” He cringed, ears still ringing, why couldn’t he just call him dad? “Can I at least say goodbye to Jack?” 

There was silence on the other end. For a moment he feared that the line had gone dead, that he would never would never let his brother know that he was is role model. 

“Fine. Two minutes.” 

The phone was handed over to Jack. No goodbye, no final sentiments, but there were no words of hatred either. Just cold apathy. Somehow, that hurts worse.

“Kevie?” 

Two minutes was not enough to tell Jack everything Kevin so desperately wanted to day. 120 seconds wasn’t even enough to tell him how much he appreciated him, how much he cared. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try. 

“I want to say sorry, for being annoying and for blaming the maple donut on you. Dad won’t let me call you again and I just really need you to know that I look up to you. I always have. You’re my favorite person and I love you,” Kevin said in a hurry, not bothering to breath in between sentences. 

Jack let out a small laugh, trying to mask the obvious sob in his voice. “I know, Kevie. No need to get all sappy. You take care of yourself okay?” 

“You too.” 

The line went dead before he could even finish those two words. Kevin’s ears were still ringing. Connor put the phone back on the receiver. 

“That wasn’t two minutes,” Kevin said, staring at the phone with the same apathy he had heard in his father’s voice. Only 75 seconds had passed. 

Connor didn’t respond, simply hugged his friend close. Kevin melted, not crying but coming damn close. He didn’t deserve Connor McKinley. 

There was an impatient knock on the door. “C’mon! I want to call my sister!” One of the Elders said, Kevin couldn’t make out who and, honestly, didn’t give a shit. He wanted to be selfish, wallow in self-pity for a while. It wasn’t every day someone lost their family. 

He allowed himself two minutes, a full 120 seconds, of selfishness. His ears rang the entire time. Connor slipped out 45 seconds in, telling Kevin that he would explain to the Elders that Kevin needed a moment to himself. They wouldn’t be happy but let them get mad. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

125 seconds passed, and Kevin couldn’t drag his eyes away from that phone. Around 135 seconds since that angry shout from the Elder Kevin managed to push himself onto his feet and shuffle across the dirt floor to the door. He wrapped his long fingers around the knob, but let go and turned sharply, making his way back to the desk. 

He fixed the papers. Three times before the ringing in his ears finally stopped, it was only then that he slipped out of the room, muttering an apology for taking so long. 

His room. This was home now, his only home. These people were his family. 

Kevin wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted to be back in Salt Lake City, lying to himself that he would be the next prophet. He wanted to be his father’s favorite child. He wanted to race Jack up and down the aisles of Toys R Us with light sabers in hand, even though they were far to old to be playing with toys. 

Most importantly, he wanted to have never met Connor McKinley. The boy made his stomach churn in the best possible way and, while Kevin could admit that he no longer believed in God, there was no way he would be able to admit that Connor was closer to him than a friend could ever be. Those gentle squeezes of reassurance, the looks of pride whenever Kevin made progress, those late nights just talking because Kevin couldn’t sleep. 

He had lived in denial about what happened with The General. Kevin could lie to himself a little bit longer. Connor McKinley simply cared about his Elders because he was district leader. That was his job. They weren’t friends. 

They weren’t friends. 

Kevin collapsed on his bed and stared at the spiders crawling across the ceiling. Just thinking of the way Connor smiled at him like there was no one else around made him shiver. 

They weren’t friends, they were so much more. 

But neither of them was about to admit it, now were they? 


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry these chapters are taking so long to get out. I've been focusing more on my Newsies fic, which was originally supposed to be three chapters long but somehow melded into three stories. That being said, these updates might be a little sporadic so i apologize in advance!!

Being an asshole wasn’t hard. Kevin had always been, on some level, an asshole. 

The hard part was being an asshole to Connor McKinley. 

Kevin didn’t want to be mean, truly. He spent countless, sleepless nights staring at the roof of the hut and concocting the most polite ploys possible that would distance himself from the District Leader. Somehow, every single one of them failed. 

Connor McKinley was inevitable. 

The only time Kevin truly got to be alone, utterly and completely alone, was watching the sun set on the Serengeti. 

All of the other Elders tended to give Kevin his space. Maybe they were scared of him, Kevin didn’t blame them. Sometimes, even though he was improving, Kevin scared himself too. He stole the conversation right out of rooms. Eyes were averted whenever he would pass by. Whispers followed his every move. 

It hurt, sure. Kevin wanted nothing more than to have Arnold there as a barrier. He would construct some elaborate story about how respecting Kevin Price was a sacred rule in “The Book of Arnold.” Not that anyone would listen. 

Solitude had its perks. There was no pale freckled mass constantly hovering over him, constantly asking if he was okay or, even worse, trying to force a smile onto Kevin’s face. There was no gentle fingers combing through Kevin’s hair as he sobbed. There was no one. No one to lie to him and say it would all be okay. No one to calm Kevin down when he got lost in his thoughts. No one. Just how Kevin wanted it. 

However, the sun only took two minutes to set – three or four on a good day. That meant only 120 seconds alone. Only 240 seconds maximum for Kevin to breathe and try and sort out what the hell he was thinking, falling for a boy like that. 

Today was not destined to be one of those days. 

The sun lingered above the horizon, taunting Kevin. The Elders bustled about inside the hut behind him. It was Family Game Night and teams were being set up to play charades, which meant Kevin had to be in there soon. Otherwise Connor would take it upon himself to track Kevin down. 

“Wait!” The familiar, authoritative voice rung out over the chaos. “We’re missing someone.” 

The sun was still hovering above the horizon. Kevin stood up and grabbed one of the flashlights they left on the dilapidated porch swing. That was his cue. He began the brisk walk to the lake, hoping that Connor would give up on trying to include him in things. 

As soon as he rounded the corner he heard the screen door swing open. “Start without me. It shouldn’t take me too long to find him.” 

Kevin groaned, louder than he should have, but part of him wanted to be caught. Part of him wanted to see Connor and talk to him. He focused on the sun, estimated about a three minutes until it touched the horizon, and began a slow jog towards the lake. Connor caught up easily, seeming to have known exactly where Kevin was headed. 

“It’s game night,” Connor said. No begging or pleading, just a nonchalant conversation as though this job had been on his agenda all day. 

Kevin stared straight ahead at the horizon. The sun was just barely grazing the waterline. “You have obnoxiously long legs.” His eyes flicked from the sunset to Connor. He really hoped this was going to be a longer sunset. 

Connor snorted with laughter. “Actually I’m just better at cardio than you.” 

Kevin couldn’t help but scoff at the idea of anyone being better than him at anything. Which was weird, considering thoughts like those rarely passed through his brain anymore. He smiled. Progress. 

“Is there any particular reason we’re running?” Connor asked. The lake was a few hundred yards away and the sun had approximately 203 seconds left until it fully disappeared from the horizon. “I would much rather be kicking your ass in charades right now.” 

“And here I was thinking you’d be begging to be on the same team as me.” 

“Oh, I was gonna be on your team. Figured, that way, it would be more entertaining to watch you get mad once I guessed more answers than you.” 

He faked a scowl, picking up the pace just a bit, and turning his gaze away from the way the sky light Connor’s pale skin with a vibrant glow of pinks and reds. If he wasn’t careful, Kevin was going to end up saying something he’d regret. It was hard enough trying to concentrate on not falling flat on his face when Connor kept brushing up against him as they ran. 

By the time he reached the lake, the sun was halfway set with reds and purples and pinks and blues illuminating the sky. Kevin dropped the flashlight and turned his head up to the sky in silent awe. He counted the seconds, all 237 of them, until the glowing orb dipped below the waterline. 

For those three minutes or so Kevin didn’t have to think. He didn’t have to remember that his family hated him, or Arnold was never around anymore. He didn’t have to care that none of The Elders accepted him, or how Connor was hovering behind him, not watching the sunset, rather watching the boy in front of him. 

Then it was over, and the sky came crashing down on him. Everything was still illuminated in those bright hues as he turned around to face Connor. 

The tall, pasty boy was staring at him with an intensity Kevin had never felt before. It made his skin crawl in the best ways. His white cotton undershirt was glowing along with the rest of the sky. Connor didn’t have that usual grin, but somehow managed to look content nonetheless. 

If Kevin still believed in God, he would have thought this was the angel to drag him from the depths of hell. Who was he kidding? Connor had already done that. 

He had done so much for Kevin without asking for anything in return. Even before The General, Connor had gone out of his way to make Kevin feel welcome. This feeling wasn’t some toxic savior kind of infatuation. No, Kevin had wanted to run his hands through Connor’s hair since he met him, wanted to trace every pattern his freckles could make, and wanted to drag his lips down the boy’s neck and taint his pale skin with a purple hickey. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” The words were off Kevin’s lips before he could stop them. 

“Blunt as always,” Connor said, but the words were spoken kindly. He took a step towards Kevin reaching out to cup his cheek. Kevin would be lying if he said he didn’t lean into the warmth. “Do you think you’re ready for that?” 

The question had Kevin’s heart slamming against his ribcage. Connor wasn’t completely disgusted by the idea of kissing him. He had not been expecting that. In the back of his mind he had been sure that Connor would turn him down. Who would want someone broken like him? He wasn’t nice or cute or pure. 

Still, Connor wanted to kiss him and, of course, the only thing he was concerned with was if Kevin would be okay. His mind was racing so fast that Kevin didn’t even care if he wasn’t ready. He wanted Connor so bad. He need to feel his lips against his underneath this vibrant sunset. 

Kevin Price needed Connor McKinley. 

He took a step closer. Kevin could feel Connor’s breath tickle his lips, he leaned forward. 

“Stop stalling.” Connor grinned and met him halfway. 

There were no fireworks, no “foot pop,” nothing that Kevin had heard girls gossip about in the back of bible study. He had always thought about how his first kiss would be, imagined a million scenarios with a million different girls. Kevin had never imagined kissing a boy under a sky of a million colors in Africa. 

Connor seemed to know what he was doing, taking the lead and redirecting Kevin’s lips to be less sloppy and awkward. It was that second kiss that made him go weak in the knees. 

It felt right. Everything felt right. His coming to Uganda, his family abandoning him, and Arnold ditching him. It all made sense because everything played right into him kissing Connor McKinley. 

It all felt right until Connor stiffened, pulled away, and watched Kevin with frightened eyes. “I’m so sorry. I- We- This never happened,” he stuttered. 

“Was it not good?” Kevin, being selfish as always, asked. 

He didn’t get a response. Connor had turned on his heel and hightailed it back to the hut. Sometimes, he wished that Connor would stay and yell at Kevin for being an asshole, instead of turning and running the other way. 

Kevin turned his gaze from the retreating figure back to the sky. He had been right, sunsets were the worst. 


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! Life has been busy and my mental health has been suffering. I wanted to get out a chapter before school starts again. Hope you all like it :))

Living in the mission hut had been bad enough when everyone was a happy Mormon. It was hard when he had somehow successfully convinced everyone to leave the church and join the Book of Arnold. Life was downright brutal dealing with the trauma while The Elders all collectively disliked him. At least then he had a silver lining. 

Now, Kevin Price had nothing. 

No hope. No happiness. No rock. Not even Arnold came by to visit anymore. Everything had changed, nothing for the better. 

He knew that somehow, maybe it was because of his pride or greediness, he deserved the pain. What Kevin wasn’t expecting, was how much pain it would take to compensate for it. 

If he was Connor, then the optimist in him would see the bright side. This experience would only strengthen him. Kevin would be able to come out the other side with a life lesson and the good feeling of helping a small village in Africa. 

The only thing was, Kevin wasn’t Connor and he didn’t have him to remind him that the Sun always rose in the morning. Kevin was a pessimist at heart. He lived his life expecting crushing disappointment in everything he did. Part of him feared that he was becoming contagious. 

That next morning Connor didn’t leave his room. Even Poptarts couldn’t convince him to leave his bed. 

For the rest of the day, Kevin had eyes on him. Glaring, piercing eyes that laid him on the table and spliced him open, pulling at his insides to locate the disease, that contagion. He was a menace. Better off starving in the Serengeti. 

He focused on the plans for the school. Drawing and erasing, drawing and erasing, drawing and erasing. Everything line, even those down to the smallest centimeter, had to be redone 22 times. No more, no less. That would fix everything. Kevin was sure of it. 

In fact, it had fixed nothing. He was behind on the plans, Connor was still locked away in his room, and The Elders still hated him. Half of them had tried to keep his food from him. Elder Church had to smuggle it into his room after everyone had gone to bed. 

Kevin contemplated just letting himself starve, but James had already planned for that. He refused to leave until at least half the plate was clean. For two days it went on like that. With Kevin being mistreated in public and cared for gently in the security of his room. No one wanted to be seen being polite to him in the real world. There was a status quo to uphold. 

On the third day, Connor rose again. The creak of his door had alerted everyone. It even persuaded Kevin to show his face to the rest of the group. Poptarts rushed to him, arms wide, and crushed him in a hug. Connor hugged him back. 

Kevin wished his affection had been requited in a similar fashion. 

The Elder’s swelled forward, swarming their leader with concerns on his well-being. Everyone was speaking at once. Kevin didn’t say anything. He simply stood there watching his best friend and Connor’s eyes had passed over him as though he were nothing more than a mere spirit. 

He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Their kiss meant nothing. Kevin had imagined everything. Connor wasn’t gay, and, even if he was, there was no way he would want a damaged good. As usual, he had ruined the only good thing going for him. 

Doing what Kevin did best, he slipped from the crowd and out the door. Maybe he’d be able to catch the next bus to town if he was lucky, though that wait could be weeks. Kevin was more than likely stuck here. Even if he wasn’t, where would he go? 

He had no money for a plane ticket. No family to take him in. Not even food in his stomach. 

It growled as he walked, not really having a destination. Kevin wanted to go back to the lake, that had always been his safe space. All he could think about was three nights ago. Where, at that same lake, he was left to lose control. 

Connor may have been the one to run away, but Kevin was the one who broke down. 

He sat, fully clothed, in the water and watched it lap at his shirt, skin, and wounds. Everything hurt, but mostly his heart. It seemed, nowadays, his heart always hurt. Kevin cried that night. His salty tears making ripples in the freshwater. 

No one sat in the water now as Kevin passed it by. He was to be the only one disturbing Africa’s tranquility in this village. Not even The General had caused this much drama since after the incident. That was saying a lot. 

Kevin was tempted to kick off his shoes and wade out to the middle, far as he could until it was late at night and he was shivering from the temperature drop. 

“I didn’t mean to run off like that.” 

“You don’t have to explain,” Kevin said in a flat voice, not even bothering to turn around. He knew who it was and where their conversation was going. 

Connor moved to stand beside him. He didn’t look at the lake like Kevin, instead he stared at something more important. “Can’t I anyways?” 

Kevin shifted under his gaze. “If you feel you must.” 

Could he handle this? Was Kevin really ready to hear about how this boy, the one he was falling in love with, was disgusted by him? Would he be able to hold himself together? Or would he just shut down and start back at square one? 

The sun beat down harshly from the sky. Sweat trickled down his neck. Time seemed to freeze. Kevin blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. No, that didn’t feel right. Try again. Once. Twice. Three times. Still wrong. C’mon, Kev. Gain control of the situation. 

Connor turned towards him, reaching out with one hand to cup Kevin’s cheek. 

Blink one time. 

Connor was still moving, closer now. His fingertips grazed Kevin’s face. 

Blink twice. 

Connor fully faced him. 

Blink a third time. 

Connor’s lips were on his. 

Suddenly, the world made sense. Kevin was in control once more. Everything was working how it was supposed to. 

When Connor pulled away he didn’t run. Instead, his mouth split into the biggest grin Kevin had seen from the permanently joyful district leader. “I like you Kevin Price.” 

‘I like you too, Connor McKinely.’ 

That’s what Kevin should have said. Instead his mind began to whirl. Quite some time had passed since once of these panic attacks had occurred. Kevin was caught off guard. He stumbled. Connor caught him by the arm. 

“You didn’t ask,” Kevin whispered, his breath coming out in a ragged wheeze. His eyes squeezed shut. There was a glimpse of the general’s rough hand grabbing at his waist, slimy lips on his cheeks, and abrasive whispers insulting everything Kevin had ever known. “You’re supposed to asked. He blinked three times, but the flashbacks didn’t stop. 

In movies, at least the ones Kevin had seen, there was always consent. A breathy ‘is this okay?’ or something similar. Even when they had shared their first kiss Connor and he had a mutual understanding that this was okay. Until Connor had run off, that was. 

“Oh, shit. Shit. Kevin, I am so sorry.” He hadn’t let go of Kevin’s arm. “What do you need from me? How can I help?” 

Kevin nodded, nodded so hard and so fast he looked more bobblehead than person. “Just talk to me. I need to think about something else, anything else.” He stumbled once more, forcing Connor to ease them to a seated position along the waters edge. 

Being close to Connor, even with the images of The General flashing in his mind, brought ease to his nervous state. He scooted closer, so that their shoulders would brush with every breath. 

“Okay.” Connor let out a shaky breath and rubbed his sweaty palms on his shirt before settling his arm on Kevin’s shoulder. “Is this okay?” 

Kevin nodded. He could see it was Connor. This was just Connor. Sweet, innocent Connor who hadn’t meant to hurt anyone and was only struggling with his own feelings. The contact didn’t bug him as long as he could distract himself from what had happened and what he was reliving. 

“Good. Um,” Connor stuttered. He glanced over at Kevin. “Talk about something. Right. I guess I’ll just tell you why I followed you out here, then. Oh, that sounded creepy. I didn’t creepy follow you. Sorry. Am I rambling? I feel like I’m rambling.” 

A laugh bubbled its way onto Kevin’s lips. “Yeah, but it’s cute.” 

He watched a blush spread its way across Connor’s pale face. Had he said that out loud? Where had that confidence come from? 

“Um, yeah. Thanks.” Connor laughed, his sounded more nervous than Kevin’s. “I really liked our kiss. I really like you, Kev. It’s just that, when I was a kid, I had a best friend and we were really close. We did everything together. He and I were joined at the hip, together so often I had my own dresser at his house.” 

Connor shifted nervously, hugging Kevin closer to him. “I liked him. Steve knew me better than anyone, so why wouldn’t I? Being Mormon and all, the very idea of liking the opposite gender was off limits. Everyone, my parents especially, kept telling me how wrong it was to be gay. So, I never acted on it. I was so nervous to be around him. Most of the time I would throw up or fake being sick to get out of hanging out with him. 

“He was smart, noticed what was up, and we got in a huge fight. I kept repressing my feelings. Everyone kept telling me it was wrong. Then one day he confessed his feelings for me and I panicked. I shut everything and everyone out. When you kissed me, I don’t know, I pictured Steve and freaked. I shouldn’t have run away. That was wrong of me and I am so, so sorry, Kevin. I didn’t think about how it would affect you.” 

Kevin reached up and grabbed Connor’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. He could tell just by the waver in Connor’s voice that the memories he just shared were one’s he tried hard to forget. “Thank you for telling me,” Kevin reassured him. “I just thought that you weren’t gay or that I was disgusting to you.” 

Connor shook his head, laughing as he did so. Kevin wasn’t sure how much time had passed, whether or not The Elders would be looking for him, or if his panic attack was really over. He could breathe, but his hands and shoulders were still shaking. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.” 

Kevin made to laugh, but once he saw the serious look in Connor’s eyes as he spoke the words the laughter died in his throat. “You mean that?” He asked, mind whirling. No one had ever given him such a sincere compliment before. 

“I told you I liked you earlier, didn’t I?” Connor grinned at him. “You are the most handsome boy I have ever seen. You’re stubborn and an ass at times, but I love it. You pretend like you don’t give a shit about anyone, but I saw you cry that day Arnold left. Kevin, you’re sweet and caring and funny. I- I really like you, Kev.” 

“Can I kiss you?” Kevin asked. 

“What?” Connor blinked. “I mean- yes! Of course, always.” 

Kevin matched Connor’s grin and leaned in. When their lips touched, the shaking in Kevin’s body stopped and, this time, he could feel the fireworks. They were bright behind his eyes. Brilliant blues and reds and pinks and purples and all the colors of the sunset he remembered watching with Connor all those days ago. 

When they pulled apart, Kevin was breathless, but he found just enough air to tell Connor the one thing on his mind. 

“I like you too, Con. I like you a lot.” 


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter! Next one is the end :((   
> I still don't know which one I'm going with. Should these two have a happy ending??
> 
> Also, bonus points if you can spot the Falsetto's reference

When Kevin was little, his father had convinced him that he would be the next Joseph Smith. Kevin Price was destined to be the next prophet. There wasn’t a day that went by that someone didn’t tell him that. They told him he could do anything. Kevin was just a kid. How was he supposed to know that, the higher the pedestal, the harder the fall? 

And, boy, did Kevin fall. Hard. 

The shed was hard, rough against the palm of his hand and entirely worth the splinters Kevin would be peeling out later tonight. Connor was receiving the worst of it. Picking splinters out of a hand was one thing but pulling them from the back of the arm or back in general was, frankly, a pain in the butt. Regardless, it was the price to be paid. A little pain to feel so, so, good. 

It had taken a few weeks. Kevin had to work through the anxiety of Connor’s lips on his neck. The panic attacks were never welcomed but became few and far between. Being able to kiss someone, to hold someone, to be held, to be kissed, without the looming presence of The General’s terror was liberating and Kevin took advantage of it. 

There was a routine. Kevin liked routines. It made everything easier, expected. 

At exactly 5:30 a.m. Kevin would wake up to Connor in his arms. He’d allow himself a selfish 120 seconds to cuddle him and press kisses to his ginger hair before waking Connor to sneak back into his own room. Thirty minutes later he would here the rest of The Elder’s shuffling about outside. When he steps into the hall all everyone would comment about how Kevin is always the last one to get up as he makes his way to the back of the line. 

When Connor leaves the bathroom, scratchy towel around his waist, the two would avoid eye contact. He would squeeze past, rest a hand on the small of Kevin’s back, and disappear into his room. At 6:15 in the morning, Kevin would strip naked and take a cold, _cold_ shower. He would then rush to his room and fuss over if his hair fell the right way or if his outfit made him look attractive, even though they all only owned one style of outfit. 

It was the same every morning. Blissfully predictable. The only thing that would change was breakfast duties and, even then, Kevin knew how to make it work. He help with breakfast, glance at Connor wistfully and, hopefully, not obvious to the other elders. Some days he had to wipe down the tables or put away what little left overs they had. 

Today, though, he was on dish duty with Connor. That gave him ten minutes to goof off with his best friend. 600 seconds to sneak kisses when no one was looking and dream of a world where Connor was his boyfriend in the real world, not just some godforsaken hut in Uganda. 

He craved the domesticity of it all, waking up with Connor in his arms in a real bed, without six other boys in the house. For now, he could deal with the few minutes everyday he got to shower this boy in affection. Even if that meant splinters in his fingers. 

“Mmm,” Kevin let out a tiny hiss as he pulled away. “You’re so lucky I like you enough to spend hours picking tiny piece of wood out of my hands.” 

Connor buried his face into Kevin’s neck, muffling his laughter. Feeling hot breath on his chest sent a shiver down his spine, but, as long as his eyes were open and staring at the mess of a boy in front of him, there were no signs of a panic attack. Kevin was safe. Safe with Connor. Safe without him. He just preferred the former. 

“Does that mean I have to wait an hour for you to pull them out before we get to make out tonight?” Connor pulled away, if he could smirk then he would, but he could only grin. Africa had not changed him in the slightest. 

Kevin leaned in and captured his lips. It wasn’t often that he wished for a phone, being unplugged had been a breath of fresh air, but what Kevin wouldn’t do to have one in this instance. All he wanted was to capture Connor’s sunburnt cheeks or the little moan of satisfaction that he would make whenever Kevin’s lips touched his. 

It took all of his self-control to pull away. They only had 270 seconds left to talk privately anyway. As much as Kevin would want to spend kissing, there was no doubt one of the Elder would cone sniffing around for Connor. The school blueprints had long been finished and now construction was in full swing. That just happened to mean a lot more for Connor to supervise. 

“We’re making out tonight too?” He chuckled. “You can’t last a couple hours without kissing me?” 

Not that he minded. Once these next four minutes were over, then Kevin’s routine became rather lonely. He’d go eat lunch and be ignored by the other Elders for fifteen minutes. After that, he was subject to the Serengeti heat while doing some hard labor. 

“I just use the view I’ll be getting for the next few hours to tide me over.” 

“Ah, so you are staring!” Kevin pushed Connor against the shed for one last kiss. He leaned forward, lips inches apart. “I’ll have to put on more of a show.” 

“Bastard,” Connor whispered and clashed their lips together. It was messy, but passionate. Full of teeth and tongue. They still had 120 seconds left. Two whole minutes of uninterrupted desire. That’s what made the cough so alarming. 

Someone had caught them together. And with a house full of ex-Mormons a few hundred kilometers away that threw any hope of Kevin ever being accepted in their small group. 

Connor was the first to pull away. 

Panic set in. Would he pushed Kevin away and shout with disgust? Would he deny whatever they had? Would he be ashamed? There was no scenario in Kevin’s mind that ended with Connor announcing that he wanted to be with him. Not to a single Elder, not even to the world. 

But Connor didn’t shove him away. He kept a hand over Kevin’s heart and turned to look at the interruption. “Do you mind? I’m trying to relax.” He said, flashing his best smile. 

“Uh, sure.” Kevin didn’t have to turn his head to know it was Elder Poptarts. Thank fucking Arnold that it wasn’t anyone else. Poptarts was the only person who liked him in this hut, beside Connor for obvious reasons. He also happened to be the most accepting. “But you might want to wrap it up. Some government officers are here to see us, and they aren’t happy.” 

“It isn’t The General is it?” Connor’s face blanched. His fingers tightened around the fabric of Kevin’s shirt. His eyes dragged over the tan face in front of him, before flicking back to Poptarts. 

Elder Poptarts shook his head. “They were American.” 

Kevin stepped away from Connor with a sigh but was pulled back for one more kiss. When they separated, Poptarts was gone, leaving the two free to walk hand in hand back to the hut. He wondered if it would be the last time. 

“Are they sending us home?” He asked. 

Connor nodded, tense like he had been the first weeks Kevin had known him. It didn’t suit him. Connor McKinley was carefree, happy go lucky, smiley, and goofy. Kevin was the hard ass, anxious, tense, asshole. He wanted to kiss all Connor’s fears away, but now wasn’t the time. There might never be time. 

“Fuck. You’re kidding me, right? It hasn’t even been a full year yet.” Kevin let out an exasperated sigh. This was it. Everything he’d ever known was over. Connor would be gone, Arnold would be gone, and he’d be living on the streets of Salt Lake City, Utah until he died. “We can’t leave. We- we just got comfortable and now that’s all supposed to just stop?” 

“Kev calm down. We’ll discuss it later.” Connor pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his friend’s hand. 

It was too much. Everything had just settled down. The routine was working well. Now that was all just going to fade away? 

They arrived at the hut sooner than Kevin wanted to. Their hands separated, and Kevin went in first, without Connor for all to see his swollen lips and crazed hair. No one noticed. The arrival of the U.S. Government had been enough of a distraction that the only knowing glance he got was from Poptarts. 

Connor entered minutes later. His face was red from the sun, lips swollen for forbidden kisses, face scratched raw from Kevin’s 5 o’clock shadow, and tears in his eyes. “Gentlemen, would you like to step into my office.” 

He led them to the embarrassing excuse of an office and shut the door behind them. Kevin and everyone else sat down at the table for lunch, but their appetites had disappeared into the room as well; they settled on picking at their food for the rest of the hour in silence. 

Then the door swung open and the men left as quickly as they had come. The door slammed behind them, echoing in the silence. All eyes turned to Connor. Waiting. Hoping. Praying. Going back home was a death sentence for more than just Kevin. 

“Someone go get Arnold,” Connor said. “We leave for the airport tomorrow night.” 

A wave of Elders surged forward, begging for answers. It was too much for Kevin to handle. He could feel the air getting stuck in his lungs. By some stroke of luck he pushed through the throng and rushed to his room, shoving roughly into Connor on his way there. 

“Look, we’ll talk about this later!” Connor shouted. He turned on his heel and rushed into his own room. It wasn’t until he was sure that the coast was clear that Kevin heard his door open just wide enough for Connor to slip through. 

In seconds Kevin was off his bed and into Connor’s arms. There was no time for words. No time for thoughts. All Kevin could do was kiss the love of his life. 

“God, Kev,” Connor moaned, latching his lips onto Kevin’s neck and nipping softly. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, and giving him more access to Kevin’s neck. “I need you.” 

“I-I-I,” Kevin stuttered, pulling away slightly. “I can’t.” 

“Oh! God, I am so sorry,” Connor said. “We can stop.” 

He shook his head. “No, no, we can keep going. I just- I can’t go all the way. Not yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m not down for other things.” 

As always, Connor was the most understanding person Kevin had ever met. He deserved to be pleasured, and Kevin would make sure that was going to happen. One by one, each article of clothing was strewn about the room and, if the Elders hadn’t known about them yet, then they certainly did now. 

He drew shapes on Connor’s back, listening intently, and kissing him sporadically. Kevin was taking every advantage he had to touch his lover. Who knew when he would have the opportunity to do so again. 

“I guess the organization we are working for hadn’t notified anyone and conditions here are too dangerous for the government to allow it,” Connor sighed. He rolled onto his back, clutching Kevin to his chest. “They took the blueprints for the school to give to the villagers. There’s enough materials that the school should be done within the next year.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Yeah.” 

Kevin exhaled forcefully, glancing up at the pale expanse of Connor’s face above him. He mapped out the constellation of freckles on his nose and cheeks. Admired the sparkle in his eyes and worried over the chappedness of his lips. 

“What are we going to do when we get home?” He asked softly. 

Connor just shook his head. “Not tonight. Please, Kev. I can’t do this tonight.” 

Neither could he. So, Kevin didn’t push the matter. Deny, deny, deny. That’s how he had always lived his life. Deny that he eat the donut, deny that he had been assaulted, deny that he had fallen in love with the one person he couldn’t have and watch the world around him burn. 

Living in denial was hell. The dream he had shortly after falling asleep in Connor’s arms, was a blissful escape. Ever since Connor had been staying with him, the hell dreams had completely disappeared. 

The sun shone through the bleak, makeshift curtains over the windows in the room. Light shining on the sleeping couple. They shifted with a groan but refused to face the world, choosing instead to share soft kisses and mumble sweet nothings into one another’s ears. 

“I have to piss,” Kevin groaned, and stumbled out of bed. Much to Connor’s dismay. 

“No, baby, stay. It’s cold without you.” 

Kevin laughed. “This is Africa.” 

Connor grinned. “Don’t be long, smartass.” 

The door creaked open as it always did. Kevin did his best to sneak towards the bathroom without getting caught by the rest of the group eating breakfast, but something stopped him. It was silent for a bright and early morning like this. He could only make out a few whispers, that got louder and louder the closer he got to the bathroom. Then he saw them. At the end of the hall, stood everyone, staring at him with disgust. 

Whispers overwhelmed him, slowly amplifying, and, no matter how hard Kevin tried to snap out of it, he couldn’t wake up. This wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. The Elders were staring at him, hickies on his chest and neck, coming out of Connor’s room. 

“Fag!” One of them, he couldn’t tell who, screamed. Something wet hit his face. A piece of plantain. All their voices merged into one. “Dirty homo!” 

Kevin could only hear his dad screaming at a gay couple on the street. Throwing his soda and roughly dragging a nine-year-old Kevin away from the movie theater, muttering how the country 

was going to shit. 

Connor poked his head out of the room at the commotion. Watching as The Elders yelled and threw food at a frozen Kevin. 

“No!” Connor yelled, turning to face his family, his friends, the people he had lived with for almost a year. “You do not get to shame me. We have all been through hell and we’ve all been exiled, okay? But you do not get to make me give up the one fucking thing that’s been keeping me sane on this fucking continent! I don’t give a shit if you aren’t okay with it and that, somehow you still believe in a God after he fucking abandoned us, you think it’s wrong. 

“I love Kevin Price and there is not one thing that you assholes can say to change my mind. This is the last day I get to spend with him. He’s about to be torn from my arms in a matter of 24 hours and then you all can shame me for having loved a man who is the sweetest, most caring, and hilarious person I have ever met. Shame me then but let me have him for one more day. That’s all I ask. One more fucking day.” 

All the Elders stared, dumbfounded at the number of obscenities that had just dropped out of their district leaders mouth. More so at the fact that he was gay and, out of all people, had chosen Kevin Price. Not that Kevin blamed them, Connor deserved so much more. 

Poptarts stepped forward. “Go back to your room, Connor. You too, Kevin. Anyone who has a problem can talk to me and James.” 

Elder James stepped forward, grabbing Poptarts hand, and turning to stand beside him. That’s all the rest of the group needed to quiet down. Four homosexuals. Out of nine. Practically half. Forty-four percent, technically forty-five if Kevin were to round up. 

No one voiced opinions as Connor slipped his hand in Kevin’s and slunk back into their room. No one even breathed. Not until the door latch quietly clicked and the yelling began again, this time directed at James and Poptarts. Two was less than four. Two was manageable. 

“We should go help them,” Kevin whined, struggling to unlace his fingers from Connor’s. 

“No,” he said. “I’ve been covering for them since James had gotten here for his mission. This is Thomas paying me back.” 

All Kevin could manage was a small “oh.” What else was he supposed to say? They had one day left. 24 hours, 1,440 minutes, 86,400 seconds. Well, in reality it was far less than that, but still. One day was not a long time, no matter how you broke it down. Did he really want to waste it with words? 

Partially. He had a few words he needed to say. “Hey, Con?” 

Connor swiveled, wrapping his arms around Kevin’s neck, and resting his forehead against his lovers. “Mmm?” He hummed, eyes scanning his face. 

There was no tension in his stance as there had been yesterday. This was Connor Kevin had fallen in love with. Confident, quirky, and unafraid to be who he was. 

“I love you, too.” 

He and Connor shared a smile. “I’m glad to hear it,” Connor said right before he leaned in for a kiss. 

In the back of Kevin’s mind, a clock was ticking. Counting the hours, the minutes, the seconds until they boarded the plane back to America. 


	12. The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and supporting this story. It really does mean the world to me. I hope you all enjoy the ending, it was hard to write, knowing that this is all over, but I like how it turned out.

Turbulence rocked the plane, causing a freckled hand to grab at Kevin’s tan and calloused hand. He squeezed it in soft reassurance, they would make it, the plane would not crash into the Hudson Bay. The sun was just beginning to rise over the Atlantic Ocean, coloring the sky in colorful hues of pinks and reds. Kevin missed Uganda’s sunrises. 

The plane stopped shaking. Connor did not let go of Kevin’s hand, not that he minded. They had maybe thirty minutes left on this plane. Thirty minutes to share small little displays of affection before they landed, after that they had an hour in the airport until Kevin had to hop on his connecting flight back to Salt Lake City. 

That meant Kevin Price only had 5,400 minutes to memorize the way Connor’s eyes crinkled when he smiled or how he bit down on his pink, chapped lips to hold back a laugh. Only 324,000 seconds to press small kisses on his sunburnt knuckles. Only an hour and thirty minutes to love this boy. 

“You’re staring, again,” Connor chuckled, meeting Kevin’s cautious gaze with a grin. A warmth spread through Kevin, as it always did when Connor looked at him; he only had an hour and twenty-nine minutes left. He began to stutter an apology, but the other cut him off, “I don’t mind. I like when you look at me.” 

Kevin leaned over, pressing a small kiss against Connors cheek before quickly pulling back. “I like to look at you,” he gave a breathy laugh and winked. The tips of Connor’s ears went pink. If they were still in Uganda, Kevin would already be pressing Connor against the back of the mission hut and leaving hickeys along the pasty boy’s neck, but they weren’t in Uganda anymore. 

He tore his mind away from the thought and looked out the window to distract himself. The pollution in the air choked the vibrancy from the colors. Everything was dull and greying, choking the life out of it. Connor let go of his hand. One hour and twenty-seven minutes left. 

They hadn’t talked about what would happen when the plane landed. Their minds had done the deciding without the need for words, but Kevin needed the words. He needed to know that Connor felt the same way. Definitively the same way. Any discrepancy between the decision and everything, mainly Kevin, would fall apart. 

“Hey,” Connor said softly, flooding color back into his life. The lights of the plane were too bright, the baby crying in the background too loud, and his head was pounding too hard, but Kevin wouldn’t change it for the world. “You have all day to act mopey. Let’s just-” he inhaled shakily- “be happy for a little while longer.” 

Kevin snorted, biting back a sarcastic reply. It had been Connor’s idea not to talk about it. Not to mention the undeniable. He was either “too tired” or hurt or sad or whatever fucking adjective he could muster for that day to talk about the fact that their mismatched little group was leaving Uganda way sooner than they were supposed to and Arnold had refused to leave without Naba. He was down one best friend. Connor and Kevin thought they had so much time to love one another, but that, like everything else good in Kevin’s life, had been cut short. He’d be down another friend by the time the sun was high in the sky. 

It was the sad look on Connor’s face; those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t bring himself to mutter the word ‘no’ to. So he took a deep breath, smiled, and pretended. 

“Ok.” Kevin let out a breathy laughter. “Can I at least kiss you?” 

“For everyone to see?” Connor gulped. They had been trapped on this plane for roughly 16 hours. That was 57,600 seconds and Kevin had only got to kiss Connor once as they sat down. Granted, he couldn’t be too mad seeing that everyone had fallen asleep, but now it was morning and they were landing; the bustling noise had been enough to keep them up for hours. “When we land.” 

He settled for kissing the pads of Connor’s fingers, praying their prints embedded themselves onto his lips forever. He wanted to have his lovers touch on him always, since his lips certainly wouldn’t. 

Getting mad wasn’t fair to Connor. Kevin knew this. He had scolded himself through the fitful sleep of the plane ride. Connor had been so patient, so understanding, with all of Kevin’s trepidations of mere friendship. Being out and proud was something Connor had to work towards, Kevin needed to be patient. 

But he was so much better at getting mad. Easier. After all, that’s what Kevin was good at. 

“I don’t see why you can’t just kiss me. Half the people on this plane already know and it’s not like we’d ever see them again anyway,” he grumbled, tracing the lines on Connor’s palm carefully. When he was younger, one of Kevin’s classmates had taught him what the lines meant. She had gotten in a lot of trouble for that. Witchcraft they had called it. 

Connor’s hands were beautiful; he had a long life-line, but his heart-line snapped suddenly in the middle before carrying on for quite a while. He glanced at the boy, who was staring out the window, pretending to have no heard Kevin’s childish whining. 

“I love you,” Connor said without looking in his direction. “I mean it Kev.” 

There was no doubt in Kevin’s mind that Connor loved him, but there was also no way he was going to say that out loud. Not now, not when they only had such a short amount of time left. 

“If I say it now, I won’t be able to say it again later,” Kevin whispered. “I won’t be able to say it twice–” 

Connor nodded slowly. It was his turn to run Kevin’s calloused fingers across his lips. “I understand. You don’t have to say it then.” 

What had he done to deserve him? 

“I love you, Connor. I love you so much.” 

The seatbelt alert above them distracted Connor from responding. In minutes they were on the ground. This was it, the beginning of the end. 

They walked to the next gate, hand in hand. No one had any baggage. They barely had enough clothes to last them a week and yet they had lasted close to a year. No one had phones to tell their parents that they were coming home, and payphones had been out of style long enough for Kevin’s mom to constantly begin her conversations with “when I was a kid. . .” 

Kevin was too impatient to sit. He paced around as Connor watched with a scarily blank expression. People gave him wary stares, but he could care less. In his mind, Kevin was concocting a genius plan. 

“What if I just don’t go home. We could just hop on a random flight and run away together.” 

“With what money, Kevin?” 

“Then let’s just walk out of the airport. I mean this is New York for fuck’s sake. You can sing and dance–” 

Connor sighed; pushing himself off the chair he made his way over to Kevin and grabbed him by the shoulder. The pacing stopped, but his mouth didn’t. 

“What? You audition for roles and I can pick up a part time job or two.” 

“Where would we live?” Connor asked. “Kev, love, we can’t run away from this.” 

He shook his head. The boy in front of him went blurry but he blinked until he could see Connor’s face, crystal clear and full of sadness. “I don’t want to leave you.” 

“And you think I want you to?” Connor rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “I wish it could end differently.” 

Kevin let out a wet laugh. “This sucks,” he said, on the verge of tears. 

“We’ll find our way back to each other.” Connor cupped Kevin’s cheeks and brushed his chapped lips across his forehead in a feathery kiss. “If we don’t, then it wasn’t meant to be.” 

Tears bloomed behind Kevin’s eyes one last time, but, despite the pain blossoming in his chest, he grinned. Connor grinned back. The wide tooth smile soothed his soul. Everything was going to be okay. 

“I’ll never forget you, Con.” He reached up to squeeze one of the hands on his cheeks. Connor’s palms were clammy, shaky, but somehow gave him comfort. Kevin pressed the snap in the heart-line to his lips, kissing it softly; as if that would mend the pain. 

Connor let out a breathy laugh. “I know, Kev. You’re always going to be in the back of my mind.” 

“Well that’s bound to be annoying.” The joke landed flat, as did most of Kevin’s jokes, but Connor had the decency to smile. If he hadn’t, the airport would look like the ending credits of a shitty rom-com with the love interests bawling their eyes out. 

This wasn’t one of those stories. Kevin never got a happy ending, so why had he been expecting one now? 

“Now boarding Gate 23 passengers 1-59. Gate 23, passengers 1-59.” The jarring voice on the intercom startled Kevin. He took a step back. Out of Connor’s arms, away from the love of his life. 

A crooked smile emerged as he released a shaky breath. This was it. How was he supposed to say goodbye? He couldn’t just leave, but if he said anything there would be nothing to stop him from breaking down in tears. 

“That’s me.” Was all Kevin could manage for the moment, but his feet were still locked in place. Looked like he really had to say goodbye. His body wouldn’t allow him to go home otherwise. 

“Kevin, I–” 

“Don’t.” Kevin shook his head. “Please” 

“Ok,” Connor said, the corners of his lips had tilted downward. Not into a frown, but a pout.” 

“I’m sorry. I just can’t handle that.” 

“It’s ok.” 

“It’s not.” 

“Last call for Gate 23 passangers 1-59. Gate 23, 1-59.” Kevin shot a dirt look to the attendant announcing his departure. They were having a moment. An awfully sad moment, but still. He glanced back to Connor. 

His hand raised in a half wave, even from a few feet away he could see the tears in Connor’s eyes. _Turn it off_. “It’s ok, go. Don’t worry about it.” 

“I’ll catch you later,” Kevin said, took one last good look at Connor, then turned and walked to the desk. The lady, who was actually a very nice person, scanned his ticket with a wide smile and wished him a safe flight. 

It wasn’t until he was half way through the gangway that he turned to catch Connor’s eye, but he was gone already. Kevin didn’t mind. Less painful. Connor, he realized once he stepped onto the aircraft, had never given him that kiss. 

The plane was bigger than the one home from Africa had been, but less friendly. He got wedged between an arguing couple. They fought the entire way to Salt Lake City, constantly pestering Kevin on who he sided with. He abstained from saying anything more than a “hmm.” 

Thankfully, the flight went by quickly. As he stood up to shimmy his way into the aisle he turned to the couple and softly remarked, “Sometimes it’s best to know when you have to walk away.” 

Kevin left them in a stunned silence. 

That seemed to be his M.O. for the day, because when he knocked on the front door to his childhood home, his dad stared at him in stunned silence too. Then he slammed the door in Kevin’s face. So hard, the sound of the mirror hanging on the adjacent wall crashing to the ground could be heard from the front stoop. 

“What the hell, Dad!?” A yell came from somewhere deeper in the house. They really did have to get their insulation fixed. 

The corners of Kevin’s lips tugged up into a grin; one that would have made Connor McKinley proud. He knew the sound of that voice. 

“Tell him to get the hell off my property.” No doubt Jack would know who their father was referring too. Kevin was currently the only person, alive, that could make his dad curse. “I don’t want him to step foot in my house!” 

The door swung open and a body lunged out. For a second Kevin thought it was his dad, ready to attack, but the arms tightening around him weren’t threatening enough for that. 

“Jack!” He exclaimed, quick to return the hug. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” 

His brother pulled away, holding him at arm’s length. “Damn, Kevie, you look like hell.” 

They laughed. Kevin couldn’t remember the last time he had heard his brother laugh like that. Not interrupted by shitty telephone static, but bright and clear. If only he’d be around longer to hear it. 

Taking a chance, Kevin side stepped into the house. Not two feet away stood his father. Steam could have come out of his ears and Kevin wouldn’t have bat an eye. 

“You do know that breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck?” Kevin shouldn’t tease. He just couldn’t help being an asshole sometimes. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. 

“Get out of my house.” 

Jack interceded. “Dad, he’s been gone a year, don’t kick him out now.” 

“I want you out!” He screamed, but Kevin didn’t flinch. 

No, something snapped in him. He calmly removed his shoes, walked into the living room, and sat down on the couch. The commotion, followed by this sudden silence, had brought his mother’s short, plump figure hurrying into the room. 

Upon seeing Kevin making himself at home on the couch, she cried “My baby!” and then began to cry. “He’s finally home. Oh, honey.” 

But as she moved to hug him, Kevin’s father grabbed her roughly by the arm and threw her into the armchair across from Kevin. Jack was quick to grab a box of tissues from the bathroom and set them next to her. If his father would deny her permission to hug her own son, she would need them. 

Jack took his place on the couch next to Kevin. The small gesture gave him the courage he needed to speak. 

“Look, Dad, I just need a place to sleep and to grab some clothes and the money from my savings. I’ll be gone before you even wake up.” 

“No,” he replied gruffly. “You have disappointed this family. Your mother and I don’t want to see your face again.” 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I’ll give you thirty seconds to get out, or I’ll throw you out myself.” 

“Dad,” Jack said. “If you lay a hand on Kevin, you’ll have to answer to me.” 

The words were weighty, stopping their dad for a moment before being brushed away. Jack had meant well, but instead had given more leverage to be used against Kevin. 

“Look at what you’ve done. Turning my poor son against his old man. You’ve ‘ought to be ashamed of yourself. I don’t know where we went wrong raising such a piece of shit, right hun?” 

His mother grabbed for another Kleenex, holding it to her mouth, and letting out a loud sob. Ironic. Kevin had been able to walk away from his everything without crying too hard and here was the woman who gave birth to him, wailing as she forced her son from his home. 

They were convinced he was going to hell anyway, why not manipulate her sadness? “Would you really send your only child to live on the street, Mama? Would you really deny him shelter and forgiveness for just a night?” 

“No,” she howled. “Just one night, please. He’s our son.” 

Kevin’s father regarded his son with a weary eye. “You’re out by 7:00 a.m. at the latest.” 

And that was it. He left the room without a second glance. That was the last time he would ever see his father. His mom was up early enough to make him breakfast, slip him a few hundred dollars, and send him off with a kiss on the cheek. But that was another story for another day. 

“So, Kevie.” Jack plopped down on the couch next to him. He had always been freakishly tall but had somehow grown to be a half a foot taller than Kevin. “Tell me all about Africa.” 

“I will–” for once, he wasn’t lying, Kevin would spend most of his night recounting every single detail (including The General’s incident and Connor) to his brother – “but first I want some air. I’ve been trapped in planes all day.” 

He made a move to leave, but Jack pulled him into one last hug. “I really have missed you, brother.” 

Kevin grinned and made his way to the back porch. He plopped down on the obnoxiously expensive couch his mother had insisted on buying before he had left for his mission and trained his eyes on the horizon. Cookie cutter houses blocked most of the view of the dipping sun, but he could see just enough of the vibrant bursts of colors. It looked so different than the rising sun had this morning. The colors were alive with emotion, curling around in the sky with the clouds. A forbidden tango. 

His heart hurt just watching it, but he couldn’t look away. Kevin was tired of not facing things. He would watch this sunset, the first without Connor by his side, till civilization came between them and the neighborhood blocked it out. 

_“A setting sun means it will have to rise again.”_ The thought drew a melancholic smile to his lips. Connor’s grin formed from the clouds in the sky but drifted away after a few moments. In the back of his mind, Kevin couldn’t help but wonder if Connor had watched the same exact thing. He had, but Kevin would never know for sure. 

The only thing he did know, was that Connor had been right. Sunsets, no matter how much they hurt, were so much better than sunrises. 


End file.
